


Angel Baby

by VioletHyena



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Reality, Angel Reproduction, Bottom Castiel, Bottom Sam, Gabriel Lives, Grace Splitting, Human Castiel, M/M, Mpreg, Nephilim, Parthenogensis, Slight Dean/Anna, Top Dean, Top Gabriel, asexual reproduction, dads, season 4, season 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-25
Updated: 2014-01-30
Packaged: 2017-12-03 14:43:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 71
Words: 136,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/699372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VioletHyena/pseuds/VioletHyena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Winchesters find out that angels do not reproduce the same way as humans. Castiel explains that his vessel is not pregnant, his grace is simply splitting to make a new angel. But, even the best laid plans sometimes go awry, especially when Heaven is involved. When the Apocalypse is nigh and Castiel is running out of grace, Dean takes it upon himself to take care of Castiel and the new angel and ends up learning how much the angel means to him. Sam on the other hand, must make amends with his own angel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Fruit of Heaven

**Author's Note:**

> Summary: The Winchesters find out that angels do not reproduce the same way as humans. Castiel explains that his vessel is not pregnant, his grace is simply spitting to make a new angel. But, even the best laid plans sometimes go awry, especially when Heaven is involved. When the Apocalypse is nigh and Castiel is running out of grace, Dean takes it upon himself to take care of Castiel and the new angel and ends up learning how much the angel means to him. Sam on the other hand, must make amends with his own angel.
> 
> (This is laced in with seasons 4 and 5, then AR afterwards. I will usually indicate after which episode it was.)
> 
> Tags: Destiel, Sabriel, Mpreg, Angel Reproduction, Asexual Reproduction, Parthenogensis, Nephilim, Alternate Reality, Top!Dean/Bottom!Castiel, Top!Gabriel/Bottom!Sam. Slight/canon Dean/Anna, Season 4, Season 5, end'verse, Alternate Reality, The End, Gabriel lives, Human Castiel.
> 
> The Destiel: Dean and Castiel begin as they do in Canon. Castiel raises Dean from Purgatory to stop the apocalypse. Complications arise in the story that builds the relationship.
> 
> The Sabriel: Sam and Gabriel have a history together, which I have written and posted called 'Back to December'. You do not need to read it, but there will be references to events in it. The events are close enough to canon that you may not need to read it though. I will not be putting warnings for sabriel chapters anymore. Read at your own risk.
> 
> Violethyena: I do not write male pregnancy very often. Mostly because there's got to be good reason for it. popping out new characters are never my goal. So when I write it, there's generally a good reason/theory behind it; and so much has branched from this. But, as Cas will repeat, his vessel is not pregnant; but it falls into being tagged as mpreg. 
> 
> I know there are many people who steer clear away from mpreg, and I completely understand. If you can not tolerate mpreg, please go find something else to read.
> 
> I was playing with this idea while re-watching season 5. I was exploring the concept of angel reproduction; because they die, and in theory there must be replacement for the dead, correct? It was going to originally going to be just that, and then it would be an super sad ending because of how Heaven would work with that. And then it branched off into Destiel as I was researching because of reasons (It was going to either end sad two ways or happy another. And I dislike sad endings). I hope it has come out tastefully and I'd like to get feed back.
> 
> Edit, Janurary 2014: Posting Hiatus is finally over. Thank you all for your patience. I have edited and added to the story with a little better dialog punctuation. Kind found out I've been doing it wrong for years. *Hides face with hands*. My Beta and sister finally told me, which I'm grateful for.

(Halloween 2008, It's the Great Pumpkin, Sam Winchester.)

 

Castiel did not want to explain his condition to the Winchesters. He strongly wished to not speak to anyone about it. He did not even wish to speak with his garrison about his participation in the growth of Heaven; as Michael called it so honorably. Yes, battling their way into Hell with tactical maneuvers was well said on Castiel's part. He reached Dean faster. Ripped him from torturing faster. But Castiel did not want to be 'rewarded' for it. Being by Dean's side to assist him was enough reward, because as crass as Dean was, he found the human fascinating in his way of thinking and speaking; from a soldier's observation strictly, of course. 

 

Heaven was gracious enough to suspend his natural reproduction for most of his existence; as with most soldiers. Because fighting while engorged with grace may have sounded more empowering, but in his case, Castiel would rather not participate with grace at all. But this line of thought was blasphemous, so he spoke not of it. 

 

Uriel, while Frank and humorous, was cruel in many cases. After Uriel met the Winchesters, while trying to stop the break of the seal of Samhain, he let slip the infernal words, "Castiel's not quite in a condition to be on the field, so babysitting a couple of mud-monkeys is appropriate for this situation." Castiel wished his comrade had not used the word 'babysitting', because in hindsight, it led to an assumption that the humans would not let go of. 

 

After Uriel took wing to seek revelation, Dean looked to Castiel, who was still there in the low-key motel room. Castiel was still new to his interactions with Dean, but he could already tell this current emotion was one of Dean's favorites; Anger, or frustration.

 

"What condition?" Dean's eyes narrowed at the angel, face tight with suspicion. Castiel mulled over the words to explain in plain human. But what could a human relate to reptiles, plants, and angels? Humans had their own mammalian way of repopulating, and angels had theirs. Dean was actively impatient. "Are you hiding something that will screw us over, Cas? 'Cause I seriously have had enough dicking around by junkless there. I don't need it from you too." Castiel wondered briefly if Dean was aware of the irony in his previous statement, but now did not seem the time to mention it. Sam was watching Castiel with equal unease and narrowed brows. Dean made Castiel feel... Feel - which was a new sensation in his being to begin with. Castiel did not want to wade through two difficult experiences at once; one of human concern and one of angel concern. Dean made him feel bad about keeping anything from him and Castiel did not want Dean to be suspicious of him; thus he was compelled to speak. He chose his words carefully.

 

"I've been chosen to carry out a duty of great honor and pride of Heaven." Castiel felt a little like he was required to say this, but he certainly did not feel honored or full of pride. He regurgitated words that Michael often spoke about it. "I'm replete with grace and in several months will render a new soldier of Heaven." Dean's face softened, but only in a way that left confusion.

 

"What do you mean, render a new soldier?" Sam asked, brows raised curiously. Castiel appreciated that Sam's vocabulary was up to snuff. Dean seemed to have hit a brick wall.

 

"Angels are naturally fecund." Castiel folded his hands behind his back, trying to explain it to a species which has never experienced such a thing. "It happens on it's own over time on a cycle every several hundred years. Normally Heaven will suppresses the phenomenon because other wise there would be a surplus of angels. Only in times of war does heaven allow strong and worthy angels to reproduce. I am... filling with grace as we speak, to make a new angel."

 

Dean suddenly stood straighter, pointing at Castiel. 'Reproduce' seemed to me the magic word for Dean. "You're pregnant? Are you pregnant? Do not fucking tell me you're pregnant." Castiel's head reared back with something akin to offense.

 

"I'm not pregnant," Castiel said and Dean let out a relieved breath, shoulders dropping. "It's called severance."

 

"Severance?" Sam asked, seeking out more clarity on the subject.

 

"Yes, I'm creating a new angel for Heaven," Castiel said simply. “There is no gestation or frailty to my condition.”

 

“How...” Sam looked as though he wanted to formulate a more detailed question, but couldn't seem to find the words to complete it. “How?” Dean gave Castiel an accusing point of his finger.

 

"Did you get angel-boned?" Dean asked and Castiel did not appreciate that it tied in with the 'junkless' and 'dicked over' comments that Dean used earlier. "Man, you're not even in a chick body..."

 

"I'm not pregnant," Castiel repeated tersely. "This body is just the human vessel I'm using to communicate with and full fill my duties on earth with. My grace is growing so that in several months from now, it will be severed from me and there will be a new angel." Sam blinked in surprise and Dean's eyebrows lifted.

 

"That sounds painful." 

 

"So you did get boned." 

 

Castiel had indeed heard the final moments were blindingly painful. After all, his grace was going to be ripped in _half_. If nothing else it would be jarring and debilitating for at least a few minutes, if not hours. Angels in severance always retired to a safe place in Heaven for the moment of weakness. Heaven predicted the war of the seals to be over long before his severance's end. The brood from the angels going through severance presently would replace his brothers that were lost in the battles. Castiel hoped to prevent the Apocalypse before he was in his moment of weakness.

 

"I have not had occasion, Dean," Castiel admitted quietly. Without bodies, angels had no reproductive organs, so it was impossible for Dean's accusation to be true.

 

"Then how the hell are you making a baby angel?" Dean scratched his head and Sam stood straighter with a look of realization.

 

"Wait, Cas, are you saying that you're reproducing asexually?" Sam inquired.

 

"Yes, I believe that's what humans call it." Castiel nodded in agreement.

 

"Wait, what? So Cas just spontaneously impregnated?" Dean threw his hands up in Castiel's direction, mimicking a small explosion it seemed.

 

"Well, asexual reproduction isn't really the same as getting pregnant." Sam walked over to his bag on the small table where he took his computer out. He popped open the screen and started it up as he took a seat. Dean's eyes lingered on Castiel until Sam tapped his brother's arm to direct him to the screen. Sam had pulled up a site on the motel wifi. "It's when there are offspring inheriting only those genes from the one parent. Mostly one celled bacteria or lizards do it. But um...” Sam gave a curious glance to Castiel. “Considering angels are actually light and energy, I suppose they do it too." Sam looked to Castiel, as though to confirm it.

 

"I believe you've put it best in human terms." Castiel was glad the streak of confusion was lifted from Dean's face, but the man was still looking at Castiel with some perturbation. His shoulders were still tight, eying Castiel with his judgment. "This will not change anything." The words were bitter on his tongue. “Samhain still needs to be stopped. ” Castiel left the Winchesters with that and his wings took him outside. 

 

All Hallows Eve slowly set in on the land as little children were running around in costumes and tugged the hands of their parents; shaking cauldrons of candy in their small hands. Castiel's eyes lingered on the small, fragile humans. They looked happy. As did the adults, even if they were not dressed as silly as their children. Castiel's fingers gripped tighter in his hand and then slowly relaxed in resolution. He sat invisibly next to to an active house giving out handfuls of candy to children, regardless of how terrible or wonderful the costume was. It was achingly heartwarming.


	2. The Mandate of Heaven is Absolute

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Before episode 4.08, Wishful thinking)

Most angels would understand if Castiel did not wish to talk about his severance. It was taught in basic training and once was enough for Castiel. He was as interested in going back over the laws as he was in going back to basic training; once was enough for any angel. He understood it was natural. He understood that there was nothing to do to prevent the outcome. But he minded, even though he was not meant to. 

 

Castiel turned his mind to the growing consciousness that beat in the back of his mind. It was barely a hum; but it was there. That hum that was the existence of an angel. Where Humans had souls, angels had something unnamed. Castiel just liked to think of it as consciousness; that part of an angel where the personality and memories were. And now there was one forming from him. It was there, but sleeping until its time of awakening.

 

Castiel tucked it safely into the back of his mind. The months would pass by quickly enough. It would be over and then he could return to his regular duties. He wrongly assumed what he'd last said to Sam and Dean would be the end of the matter, because Dean decided to bring the subject back up after Samhain had been put to rest.

 

"So is this a nine month process?" Dean asked, gesturing to Castiel in the next town's motel room; in the middle of the next case. Dean was sitting half sprawled in a chair at the table, which was piled with books. Castiel was not sure exactly what process Dean was referring to since he had already said severance would not change anything. In his eyes, the matter was closed.

 

"The Apocalypse is not time based." Castiel stood in a space with no furniture in the middle of the room, hands folded behind his back.

 

"I meant the baby angel." Dean rolled his eyes, as if it was obvious to what he was referring to.

 

"It is not a baby angel, it is a new angel," Castiel corrected. "New angels are nothing like newly birthed human children."

 

"What ever. How long before you pop?" Dean eyed him with less suspicion now after their talk in the park. Castiel wasn't sure if he felt good about that or not. It made him a little uneasy actually; revealing his doubt in Heaven. Dean still obviously did not trust him very much, but there was less open hostility. 

 

"I believe, roughly 17 months." Castiel's eyes lingered on Dean, who was more relaxed after the first shock of Castiel's condition; but Dean still sat up straight when he heard how long his severance would be. Sam was also sitting at the motel table. He glanced up momentarily from his computer, brows lifting to take in both Castiel and Dean with surprise

 

“17 months?” Dean repeated, as though making sure he wasn't hearing things. “That's almost twice as long...”

 

“As I said, this is not a human pregnancy,” Castiel spoke slowly. “I'm already a month and a half in.” He remembered it was shortly after raising Dean and mistaking that the Righteous Man could hear him. Castiel was sent a messenger from Heaven to inform him of his started severance. He had been surprised, he had not even taken a vessel yet. Dean had barely been out of Hell for a day. His brother angel informed him with a sympathetic touch that he was chosen to start the new brood of Heaven's military force. There was to be a new entity of grace, separate from his own being, but from him. It was going to be ripped from him when it was ripe. Castiel frowned. “Dean, I do not wish to discuss this.” Dean returned Castiel's frown with his own after quelling his surprise.

 

"Where the hell does it come out?" Dean persisted anyway.

 

Castiel pursed his lips, with holding a sigh. "I'm not pregnant, Dean."

 

"How else am I supposed to ask it? Answer the question." Dean folded his arms, leaning back in his chair with brows draw close, “I don't want you dropping in the middle of a fight to give birth you know.” Castiel lifted his chin ever so slightly. Dean was wary of things he didn't know about. Understandable, since Castiel was learning about human nature and culture. Castiel would not want Dean 'popping a squat' in the middle of battle either. Castiel took a slow, calculated breath.

 

“If I answer all of your questions, can you refrain from bringing it up again?” Castiel asked and Dean nodded. Sam gave up on the monster search for this conversation, which seemed to be much more interesting. “Then I will answer you questions.”

 

“Okay, why the hell are you baking up a baby now?” Dean unfolded his arms and Castiel wasn't sure where to begin with the wrongness of that question.

 

“He means,” Sam interjected -before Castiel could ask about what eating infants had to do with the conversation- as he slowly closed his laptop screen, “Why _now_ are you going through severance since we are in the middle of the a war between Heaven and Hell.”

 

“Yeah, what he said.” Dean waved a hand in Sam's direction.

 

“Heaven chooses who can and can not go through severance.” Castiel stepped closer to the table, his hands returning to his sides. He supposed that perhaps since he wasn't on the field, defending the seals, his offspring would have a larger survival rate. “I have never been through the process. Most soldiers do not so we may focus on training. But since we're losing angels in the war of the seals, there needs to be replacements. A repopulating if you will.”

 

Dean grimaced. “Okay, creepy that Heaven is planning ahead for angel deaths. Even creepier that Heaven picks who breeds and who doesn't.”

 

“Any other questions?” Castiel would have been happy to end the questioning there.

 

“Well, are you going to... you know, get bigger?” Dean continued, making gestures around his own belly.

 

“Well...” Castiel looked down at himself; his vessel. “I am, or, my grace is. It is becoming denser and growing. But I've never seen an angel with a vessel go through severance. I'm not sure if it will effect him at all.” It was disconcerting to think about.

 

“Where's the kid going to pop out?”

 

Castiel was growing tired of the line of probing questions. “Dean, it's not my vessel giving birth. It will simply... painfully, will be torn from me and become its own being. Do not worry about it happening in the middle of battle, I will be returning to Heaven before it happens. I will know when it's time.” Castiel pressed his lips into a thin line, watching Dean process this, “Don't worry, I'm sure they'll have someone come in my place while I'm inhibited.” If anything, that only made Dean more stressed, the lines increasing on his forehead. 

 

“Someone like Uriel? Fuck, no thanks.” Dean folded his arms across his chest.

 

“It's inevitable.” Castiel breathed out and then slowly breathed in. The thought made it feel hard to breathe. The looming time was always on his mind. 15 months, 2 weeks was his estimation. He dreaded it.

 

“Can't you at least ask a lady angel to watch us?” Dean asked. “Damn more pleasant than having junkless watching over us.” Sam nodded in agreement on that one. They both disliked Uriel.

 

“It won't be decided by me,” Castiel ignored the lurch of offense he felt towards that statement. “And our vessels have very little to do with who is watching you.”

 

“Creepy,” Sam muttered, running his fingers down the pages of a book he was not reading.

 

“You're not going to get all hormonal on us, are you?” Dean inclined his head to the side. “Or start eating weird foods?”

 

“Dean, these are all human bound complications that do not affect me.” Castiel glared and leaned over where Dean was sitting. “The only time it'll weaken me is in the last few days of severance. When I feel that, I will leave, and then I will return shortly after. Stop presuming that your human reproduction is anything like angels'.” Dean's lips pursed, looking up at Castiel, who was looming over him now; tense and agitated.

 

“You're... okay, right? With this whole thing?” Dean asked cautiously. 

 

Castiel leaned back, standing straight, remembering himself. His chest tightened. “It will be over soon enough.” He backed away but Dean stood, his hand catching Castiel's shoulder and yanking on his trench coat. Castiel looked at the hand and stared back at Dean lifting his chin to level eyes with him. Castiel stopped out of courtesy, because Dean grabbed and punched when he was trying to express something.

 

“That's not what I asked, Cas.” Dean had this look in his eye that Castiel had not seen before. Because Dean was normally resistant to him, or angry in general since Hell. He had only been out of the pit for a short time. Castiel rather liked Dean, but it was quite obvious that Dean was not fond of Castiel or 'his' Apocalypse. “How can you be alright with angel pregnancy in the middle of war?” Castiel's lips parted and then closed.

 

“It is natural,” Castiel spoke softly. “We are made for it. I'm not ailed by its presence.” Dean didn't seem to believe him, his grip did not loosen for a moment and Sam looked poised to intervene. “Dean. Do you have any more questions?” Dean's grip loosened of it's own volition.

 

“No.” His voice was gruff and Castiel looked down at the shoulder that Dean had been holding to. The heat from Dean's palm dissipated. 

 

Castiel flew away, drifting down to a roof top and watched a small girl hold her teddy bear and joyously tossed a coin into a well with a fervent wish of a friend. Castiel placed his hands together feeling his own grace pulse. It truly wasn't the severance that unnerved him, but the inevitable that would follow. He didn't understand the look Dean was giving him. It almost felt like concern, the way Dean lowered his brows and stared with heavy concentration, as though trying to see what Castiel was hiding. Which was nothing. Castiel acted like any other severance fated angel did.

 

He tried not to get attached.


	3. Angel Mills

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a bit of the canon Dean/Anna. A small conversation that happened after they did the deed.
> 
> (Episode 4.10, Heaven and Hell)

The interior of the Impala was always a comfortable place at night. The night Dean lay with Anna in the back seat was no different. Anna was slowly working her bra back on; she seemed relaxed and content. Dean propped himself up by the door and watched her.

 

"You were an angel," Dean reminded them both after a moment of peace, "so you know about severance, right?" Anna blinked at him slowly with her large eyes.

 

"Yes, it's the way angels reproduce." She inclined her head curiously as she slid on her underwear. "Why do you ask?" Dean rolled the silver ring on his finger.

 

"Well, Cas is angel pregnant," Dean said. He knew Castiel and Uriel were looking for Anna and everything, but he couldn't be mad at Castiel for it. He more or less was putting most of the blame on Uriel; that pompous, prick-less son of a bitch. At least Castiel seemed to feel regret for it. 

 

Anna's eyes widened, looking intrigued. She had not exactly seen Castiel when the angels had come by, so it was news to her. "Castiel is in severance," She mused lightly, brows creasing. "What odd timing."

 

"Yeah, in the middle of the Apocalypse. Like a damn puppy mill." Dean grabbed his own clothes and started to redress; underwear and jeans first. Anna gave a bitter smile, sliding her jeans on.

 

"I suppose it shouldn't be so surprising." Anna shook her shirt out. "Heaven is very strict about severance and who goes through it. Only select few are chosen when the numbers decline. The last time was when Lucifer fell." Her mouth tightened. "I asked to participate many centuries ago. I wanted to experience it for myself."

 

"Cas made it sound like a chore." Dean watched Anna slide her shirt on. Maybe it should have been more odd that they were talking about Castiel -the pregnant guy- after they'd had sex. But Dean couldn't get it out of his head and Castiel wasn't providing the generous amount of information on the subject that Dean wanted.

 

"It is... painful." Anna concluded slowly, leaning back in the seat and watching Dean. Her hands were folded in her lap. "I heard it was like having your grace torn out. And believe me, once was enough. But... at the time, I wanted to, because I've heard talks from my brothers of what it was like to be replete with grace. The connection to someone that was so pure..." Her eyes turned upwards, a wistful smile on her face. "To feel growing life within you." She looked down at herself, her body. "It's why I chose a female body, really. It's the closest you can get to being in severance; being pregnant."

 

"So it is pregnancy." Dean was then felt very conscious about the used condom that was resting in a discarded can in the back floor. He used them religiously; no pun intended. He didn't want to leave some girl pregnant, or get the clap; Or worse.

 

Anna smiled. "No, it's not. But the result is the same. New life." She looked out the foggy window and traced a few patterns in the condensation. "They denied me severance. I think that's when I started watching humans more closely. I saw how wonderfully you care for your new borns. They are so loved and all attention goes to them." She drew what looked like a swaddled child and Dean hid a slight grimace because it was in a manger and it was on his Impala window. But it was easily forgiven, because it made Anna smile. It was a sad smile, but it was still there. "I wanted that then. to make a family as a human. If the conditions had been right, that is."

 

"Apple pie life, huh?" Dean thought back to Lisa and Ben briefly. He could relate.

 

"Yes, sounded amazing. Exciting, actually. To raise a child. Nothing like severance. Heaven would only give me my garrison to look after and see as children." Dean scoffed, stopping Anna from her picture doodling.

 

"Yeah, cause Uriel is such a peach of a kid." Dean grinned when he caught Anna smile again, but her face grew solemn and tight in time.

 

"I wish Castiel well in his time," She admitted. "I know how hard it is for him."

 

"Well being angel pregnant is a big deal, right? Getting picked and all. And a kid." Dean smirked. "Can't see him with a brat running about though."

 

Anna hummed and closed her eyes. "I'm glad Heaven didn't grant my wish in the end."

 

"But it's what you wanted, right?" Dean's head tilted in confusion.

 

"But an angel in severance will be tethered to Heaven." She spoke distantly, as though thinking of something important and she touched her fingers to her own head and she looked to Dean again. "Now I understand."

 

"What?" Dean sat up more, finally grabbing his shirt.

 

"Castiel is your guardian," Anna said. "He rose you from Hell and thus they placed you in his charge. It would make sense that they began his severance in the time of watching you."

 

Dean's brow creased and he grimaced. "So what, since he babysits me, he insta-impregnates?"

 

"Because then they have much more control over him." Anna thought strategically. "Castiel will need to return to heaven for his split. For the birth, as you call it. It's the only safe plan." Dean didn't like the sound of that. It sounded wrong in so many ways.

 

"That's playing dirty," Dean finally concluded. "I didn't even know you COULD play dirty like that." Anna gave a bitter smile.

 

"It's how Heaven operates." She patted Dean's knee and leaned over, giving him a soft kiss. She then opened the door and stepped out of the Impala. Dean sat up to follow, finally putting his shirt on once he was out of the car. He hated the thought of anyone being put through something like that. It was even more devious because Heaven was pulling marionette strings on Castiel with a kid. If Dean did meet one of the assholes that decided that, he promised to find out how to kill them.


	4. Second Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (During 4.12 Chris Angel is a Douche Bag.)

(Durring 4.12 Chris Angel is a Douche Bag.) 

 

Sam stared at his phone, as though it was supposed to give him all the answers of the universe. Maybe it could have, depending on who was on the line. Sam was nearly done getting ready for his and Dean's investigation that day; researching magic tricks were a quiet interest to him that Dean blew out of proportion. Dean was taking his time in the bathroom. Sam was still mulling over Ruby's encouragement to cut the head from the snake; Lilith. And he wanted to. His insides burned to. He'd gone though a lot of hell to get this far.

 

But he was still having trouble with the application Ruby wanted him to use to become more powerful.

 

Drinking demon blood. Just the thought of it made his skin crawl. The taste of raw iron sliding like sludge down his throat. It was worse cold. And the smell stained his senses, leaving everything red. Sam hated it.

 

But... what it did to him. What it gave him was power and control. His mind uplifted and whispers of encouragement filled him. Raw power had a feeling, and it was instantaneous in his own bones. Any fear fled him and any doubts melted away. When he was high on demon blood, he just KNEW what he could do. Without it he was weak; he was just Sam Winchester. But with it, he felt a wholeness, and everything was better. _Everything_ was better. His power to kill demons became easier; like setting a match to kindling. Food tasted sweeter; fuller. And sex was mind-numbingly powerful. There was nothing like it.

 

Sam only had a little the first few times and the withdrawal was the double edge. Falling from the high sent his body tremors of pain and his mind crackled with an icy cold. But the worst part was the guilt. All the things he did while on the blood came rushing back to suffocate him. Hallucinations taunted him, the voices turned to mocking. He felt possessed, unable to move and stuck in his own mind. Sam couldn't bear to think of going though withdrawal again if he ran out. And drinking it from the flesh... Sam felt no better than a vampire. It was disgusting. If he thought of anyone else doing it made his stomach lurch. Even being done with his last withdrawal, Sam's mind still urged him to drink from Ruby; to TAKE. Take everything he wanted and forget the consequences. Take the demon blood and go out and slaughter every demon leading to Lilith. The visions of tasting Lilith's blood promised a thrill like no other. The thought of sinking his teeth into Lilith's throat thrilled him, and that scared Sam most of all.

 

Sam flicked his phone open and flicked through his contacts. He stopped on the highlighted name “L” and grimaced at it. He wouldn't attempt to call it while Dean was there, but seeing it reminded him of a time when there wasn't so much blood. The trickster, Loki, had been a large mistake on Sam's part. A huge, life altering mistake. Particularly because they'd started sleeping together after they met; for a full year. It was deceptively easy when Loki's apartment moved from place to place. But then Dean sold his soul, and Loki wouldn't help him. And then the mystery spot nearly drove him mad. He was far past his wit's end. And then Loki tried to make it up for being there for Sam afterwards. tried to trick Sam into thinking he cared. He tried to convince Sam to forget that Lilith possessed little girls to kill their families and to forget Dean, who was literally rotting in Hell because of Sam. Loki so casually offered a time of peace, as if Sam could drop all responsibility and go with him.

 

And for a time, Sam wanted to. He wanted to stop fighting. He had longed for the quiet days of peace with the trickster of all people. Because there were really nice days among the litany of drinking and research for Lilith. Sam really had wanted to stay there. But how could he knowingly let Lilith live? And how could Loki be okay with ignoring the problem and actively trying to stop Sam. If Loki had allowed Sam to kill Lilith, then they COULD have been happy. He wouldn't have had to lie to Loki's face and say he didn't need him.

 

That was all a distant dream now though. Sam flicked his phone shut as Dean came out of the bathroom. Loki just gave him the ultimatum and Sam had to end it. End what ever they'd had and went with Ruby.

 

“Ready?” Dean asked and Sam stood from his bed, nodding and putting his phone in his pocket. Luckily Dean never found out about Loki and Sam hoped to take that secret to his grave.

 

“Ready,” Sam confirmed and pulled on the jacket to his suit. Reaching the Impala outside, they passed a woman carrying a tired, crying baby into the motel room next door and Sam grimaced. Last night's sleep had been interrupted several times by the new couple; and as far as Sam could tell, the parents were terrible at keeping the baby girl quiet. Dean didn't grimace though, in fact, he had a wry smile on his face as he sat at the Impala's wheel.

 

“Hey, can you imagine Cas running around with a bundle of joy like that?” Dean asked. Sam raised his brows at his brother as he was putting on his seatbelt. Imagining Castiel, Angel of the Lord, carting around a swaddled bundle of joy that cried several hours of the night did not sound appealing.

 

“I think even an angel would be tired of that,” Sam muttered. Dean shrugged and started the car, beginning to pull out of the parking lot. 

 

“Think it'll look like cupid?” Dean asked. “You know, chubby baby with pink wings or something.” Sam snorted, a smile coming onto his face. Ever since Dean found out Castiel was angel-pregnant Sam heard about it every day. Dean's constant musings on a tiny bundle of feathers and what kind of methods would be used to take care of a small angel. 

 

“You gonna buy baby booties for Cas' baby shower?” Sam joked. He doubted there would actually be a baby shower, especially since Castiel and Uriel had just tried to kill Anna.

 

“Of course not.” Dean waved his hand dismissively. After a moment of driving down the street, he continued. “Maybe a tiny bow set. Or Metallica onesie.” Dean chuckled at his own mild joke, though Sam wouldn't doubt Dean would get in on baby gifts. 

 

Sam smiled at his brother. He could never consider leaving Dean for dead. He couldn't imagine letting go of him. He'd made the right choice in chasing after Lilith. He knew he'd made the right choice. Ruby was going to help him kill Lilith and they would save anyone that was to get hurt by her. He didn't need Loki. Loki didn't even pick up his phone anymore. For all the time he'd said he was there for Sam and that he was stuck with the trickster, Loki made a very convincing disappearing act. Not that he missed the asshole.

 

“I got it!” Dean snapped his fingers and Sam's head jerked up at the crack of his fingers. “I've seen Metallica Lullabies floating around. That would be perfect.” Sam caught his breath, swallowing dryly. For a thrilling moment, he thought it was Loki. “Might as well get the kid started on some good tunes.” A smile creased on Sam's face and he shook his head, left a bit disappointed in himself in the wake of Dean's revelation. Maybe he _was_ still waiting for Loki to contact him. To pick up the phone when he called. 

 

“Sounds perfect, Dean,” Sam said with some strain, but Dean seemed pretty occupied with his own thoughts to hear it. Sam took a deep breath and steeled himself for the case ahead. Loki wasn't an option anymore, he reminded himself. It was all just a fanciful lie.


	5. No Shore Leave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (After episode 4.18)

Castiel appreciated the quiet about his burden. To Dean's credit, he restrained himself for three months. He was able to forget his own condition sometimes; giving him moments of peace. There were always looks; from everyone, but Sam and Dean were more obvious than his brothers. Dean had been through a lot the past months; with having saved a seal, saved more humans, and tortured Alistair for Heaven. Castiel was pleasantly surprised Dean would talk to him still. But he felt he was dangerously close to Dean. He was very close to spending more time with the man; lending him his power more. Doing what he was cautioned not to do; giving hints to hunters, who should not have had them.

 

But finally, it came up again, after Chuck stopped Sam from laying with Lilith. After Lilith fled and after Chuck was placed back in his home; the brothers could breathe for a moment. Dean and Castiel were in the parking lot; Sam was checking them out of the motel room. Dean was noticeably warmer to him, his usual tense shoulders were lax and his eyes not as hard as the other times. In turn, Castiel felt himself relax in Dean's presence. And he knew he shouldn't be doing that; letting down his guard

 

“You're actually getting flabby?” Dean pointed very close to Castiel's belly, which was more pronounced than when he had first entered his vessel. Castiel often didn't pay much mind to how his vessel looked, but he took the time to notice when Dean gestured. It appeared that Castiel, in human terms, had put on a few pounds. It wasn't entirely obvious, but apparently it was enough to call Dean's attention to it. Castiel felt his vessel was going to be a snug fit in terms of grace to physical mass ratio during his severance. The body coped the best way it could, expanding in the most logical places. 

 

“My vessel is coping with my increased grace.” Castiel explained, feeling the new consciousness feeding from it. Heaven supplied him with enough grace for him and his new angel. 

 

“Huh.” Dean just stared, his face tensing in a way that was not anger or confusion. More like concentration. “Z'it a boy or girl?”

 

“Neither. An angel.”

 

“Figures.” Dean palmed the back of his head, inclining it to one side.

 

“You don't have more questions, do you?” Castiel dreaded more prying into his severance.

 

“No It's just...” a small laugh left Dean's mouth. “I can't imagine you with a kid.” 

 

Castiel was sure Dean meant that in a way that was not offensive by the soft tone in his voice, but it still felt like lightning hit his heart; and it hurt. “Why?”

 

“Huh?” Dean looked up from Castiel's belly to his face.

 

“Why is it not possible for you to imagine me as a father?”

 

“Oh well... 'father' isn't exactly the word I'd use,” Dean mumbled, but then continued normally. “But besides that? You've got this angry soldier mode on all the time.”

 

“I am a soldier.” Castiel wasn't sure what that had to do with his parental qualifications.

 

“Yes, yeah, I get it.” Dean made upward hand movements, as though trying to get his point across. “But don't you get shore leave or something? A break? You're… making an angel and all, right?” Castiel appreciated Dean's attempt with using his words better. They weren't perfect, but the thought was there. “I get the Apocalypse is on the rocks, but this is a big deal.” Castiel's brows and lips lowered, studying Dean.

 

“I know that children have a large roll in human society.” Castiel's eyes drifted down to his swollen grace. “A lot of energy is put forth to teach them and raise them over several years. Angels are not the same.” Dean frowned.

 

“So what, you dump the kid off at an angel baby sitter while you go work 24/7?” Dean shoved his hands into his pockets. 

 

“ **No** ,” Castiel said boldly and then softly repeated it when Dean looked surprised by his outburst. “No. There are no babysitters or schools. There is only training.” 

 

Dean scoffed. “No wonder angels are dicks. They were never allowed to be kids.”

 

“Perhaps.” Castiel turned away from Dean, looking over the empty parking lot. “Dean...” How to make the man understand? There was much more depth that Dean was not reaching.

 

Castiel pursed his lips suddenly, a warning whisper over the airwaves of Heaven. Since Uriel's death Heaven was keeping Castiel tethered, like an archangel to a prophet. It choked him. It reminded him to not give away too much information to the Righteous Man.

 

“I just want to make sure you're not putting a little angel in danger or anything.” Dean followed up after Castiel's sudden silence. Castiel glanced at Dean over his shoulder slowly.

 

“No. No danger.” Castiel felt a little warmed by Dean's concern for children in general, but Dean's thoughts were still turned to the angel being a child, who would be nurtured and raised by the parent that gave life to it. Dean didn't know that Castiel wasn't going to keep it. Could not keep it. “It will be trained strong and become a great warrior, like all angels before it.” Castiel looked back at Dean, but this answer didn't seem to quell something in the man. Maybe Dean could sense the wrongness in it, but could not lay a finger upon it. Maybe Castiel had given enough hints to make Dean understand.

 

“Cas,” Dean huffed. “Just don't... do anything stupid.”

 

Subtly was lost on Dean, Castiel feared. “Of course.”


	6. Dreaming of Angels

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Episode 4.20, The Rapture)

Jimmy Novak was Castiel's vessel. And yet, Dean found very little to compare the two. Jimmy was a hearty eater, very animated when he spoke, and actually sounded human; as in, normal everyday vocabulary and thinking patterns. Even his voice was different. Jimmy also didn't have the baby belly that Castiel had. It was gone. Dean had checked several times. 

 

"Do you remember anything about being an angel?" Dean asked as Sam was cooling off outside. Sam was having such a fit about Jimmy going back to see his family. But in the end, Dean got it. He did. Jimmy's family needed to stay in the dark about it. To keep them safe.

 

"Besides riding a comet?" Jimmy asked, laying in Sam's bed since he wasn't going anywhere that night. Jimmy was still completely dressed; almost in quiet defiance about his staying with the Winchesters. His stomach flat, with no evidence of the severance in sight. Jimmy was back to being kinda skinny.

 

"Well yeah. You, or actually, Cas is angel-pregnant. And he's stingy on info." Dean sat on his own bed, going over all that he'd gathered from Castiel in the past few months. Jimmy's head slowly tilted towards Dean, brows risen high.

 

"What do you mean, pregnant?" Jimmy looked at himself, concerned. He sat up quickly. "Is he doing things with my body that he shouldn't be?" Dean shrugged, feeling weird about explaining it when he knew so little about it himself.

 

"No, just, he spontaneously impregnated. It apparently doesn't affect you though." Dean watched Jimmy let out a relieved breath. Dean couldn't blame the guy. He'd be super creeped out if a pregnant angel was using his body too. Jimmy thought for a moment, looking up at the ceiling.

 

"I don't get a front seat show to what ever Castiel is doing," Jimmy admitted slowly, looking at Dean. "It actually feels like a dream and that he possessed me yesterday. Like I just woke up. But then I remember that it's been months instead of one night." He paused, but decided to divulge it to Dean anyway. "I relive a lot of my life in that dream. In weird patterns. Lately it's all been about my wife, Amelia, being pregnant." He waved his hand vaguely. "I'm not sure if it has anything to do with Castiel though."

 

"It might." Dean leaned forward. "Maybe the dreams are linked to what was happening to Cas. Any clues would really help out." Jimmy tapped his fingers on his knees, evaluating Dean, wondering if he wanted to trust him. Dean couldn't quite remember that look on Castiel. Castiel always just trusted him; like a strange, unwavering faith. It was odd not to have it, and odder still to realize it existed in the first place. "Just tell me what you can." Jimmy sighed, looking up at the ceiling.

 

"Okay. I remembered a lot about Amelia being pregnant with Claire." Jimmy linked his fingers over one knee. "I know for a fact that she was happy about it, we talked about having Claire for years. But the dreams only showed me her bad days, when she doubted or feared... loosing Claire or..." He struggled with the words. "being taken away. It just replayed constantly in the dream. But it wasn't like that in real life." Dean nodded slowly, though he wasn't sure if that had anything to do with Castiel.

 

"What else?" Dean asked.

 

"There was a dream me. I talked to Amelia a lot, to comfort her. She's my wife; what else was I going to do? I did it a few times, but I think she only got more concerned with it." Jimmy scratched his fingers through his messy hair and then tried, in vain, to comb it out with his fingers. "And then, the most recent change was remembering when Amelia was being harassed at her job. And at that time she wasn't pregnant, but Claire was at my side. Amelia was being financially taken advantage of and I wanted to speak to her about it. About..." He paused, frowning, pressing his fingers against his forehead; as though struggling with the dream memory. "About how she needed to know and that she needed to stop it. About how the job was a big mistake." He sat up straighter, looking at Dean. "But before I could say anything, I woke up and you two were pulling me to my feet." Dean waited for a moment, leaning forward on his elbows to his knees.

 

"That's it?" Dean asked and Jimmy shrugged. 

 

"Told you." Jimmy rubbed his eyes, as though he had a headache, "Has nothing to do with Castiel."

 

Dean ran his hands through his hair and sat up, grunting in frustration. He was no dream interpreter. Dean's dreams were pretty literal, but Jimmy's dreams were all about his family. Great, that didn't help him at all. Maybe Jimmy's pregnant wife was Castiel, but that didn't tell him anything about what Castiel was trying to tell him. Although Jimmy's wife, Amelia, was only thinking about what an awful pregnancy she was happening, and Castiel didn't say a word about his own bun in the oven. He doubted Castiel was fretting about it. Castiel was cool with it. Overly cool, actually. He couldn't quite figure out the part before they woke Jimmy up though.

 

Jimmy was watching Dean was he processed what ever it meant. "You're really concerned about him, aren't you?" Dean focused on Castiel's vessel.

 

"He saved my tail, on a couple occasions. I owe him." Dean thought back to Anna speaking about Castiel being tethered by his severance. "He's pregnant, whether he likes it or not, and it's not right." Jimmy's fingers drummed on the bed, face half buried in his other palm. Dean noted the duller blue eyes that he knew he'd looked at lots of times, but he just knew it wasn't Castiel.

 

"Okay, let's say, in theory, that Amelia in my dreams was Castiel." Jimmy worked out slowly. "And maybe the dream me that was trying to comfort her was you." Dean thought about this and nodded because that made as much sense as anything else.

 

"Your dream, you interpret it, right?" Dean asked and Jimmy shrugged running his hand across the cheap motel sheets. "But then, Cas is really kind of freaked about it."

 

"Extremely." Jimmy nodded casually. "Always on his mind, fearing loosing it." Jimmy laid on his back on the bed again. Dean frowned.

 

"But then Cas is being taken advantage of..." Dean tried to reason out.

 

"I think the roles are switched," Jimmy said tiredly. "Because Claire was with me, and I was seeing Amelia being taken advantage of. So, Castiel was me, you were Amelia." Dean didn't really like being compared to Jimmy's wife too much.

 

"What does that have to do with a job though?" Dean scratched his head.

 

"I don't know." Jimmy admitted though a scoff. "Felt urgent though. That it had to be stopped. That you were being taken advantage of." Dean pressed his head to his hands. It was as though it was right there, on the tip of Jimmy's tongue. It was probably sitting right in front of them and Dean just couldn't see it. 

 

"Shit." He mumbled. 

 

"Sleep usually helps with problems you can't figure out." Jimmy tested the idea out loud. Dean pondered it. Maybe Castiel would pop back in to tell him what was up and clear this whole mess up while he got his 4 hours. 

 

"Maybe," Dean agreed and waited for Sam to come back in before he announced he was going to sleep and hitting the hay. 

 

Dean didn't figure out what Castiel was trying to tell him though. Dean himself dreamed of a strange world where he, Castiel, Lisa, and three kids were running around in the background with a kite at a park. Ben was holding the kite and two shorter kids were around him. Dean watched the scene from sitting on a bench next to Castiel and Lisa next to the angel. There was a barbecue and everything. Lisa and Castiel were talking as though they had something in common and Sam of all people was at the grill, arguing with some guy about veggie-burgers. There were other shadows of people; people he couldn't quite place yet. None of the shadows where dangerous though. Not unless you looked far into the background, where Dean always knew monsters were lurking. But the park they were in was apple-pie-life bright. The peace of it should have irked Dean; should have made him suspicious. But in the dream it was nice. It felt real. It felt right.

 

But Dean forgot it completely when Sam woke him up to tell him that Jimmy had vanished.

 


	7. Choices Made

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Episode 4.22, Lucifer Rising)

Sam told himself that he had to do it. He looked at the sleeping nurse on the slab and told himself it was the only way to stop Lilith. But having heard her plead for help earlier stopped him cold. He couldn't... drain someone that was trapped with a demon inside them. Sam helped people. He didn't hurt them. 

 

Hearing her scream and shutting the trunk door made him certainly feel like a monster.

 

Sam both dreaded and held a groundless hope that Dean's message would be the answer he needed. He hadn't thought of those demons he'd drained before because they'd been just that. Demons. He had been focused so much on the demons that he didn't think of the people...

 

Sam sat for a long time, looking at his voice mail number of 1. Even then, it egged him; it was worth killing to save people, wasn't it? He was the one trying to stop Lilith from breaking the last seal. He was the only one that could.

 

Dean would understand that, wouldn't he?

 

Wouldn't Loki?

 

Loki's number stared back at him accusingly. Sam wasn't sure which one he was more nervous to hear from. Dean's answer was right there on his phone. Loki had yet to contact him. Sam ached for Loki to contact him. He'd called a couple times before, but there was still no reply. Never an answering machine.

 

“Sam, come ON,” Ruby groaned as she leaned against the parked car, only a few miles from the church they needed to go to.

 

“Just _give me a minute._ ” Sam practically hissed at her and she gave him a look like she was dealing with an unreasonable child. Sam planted his feet on the ground, several yards from the car. Sam pressed the call button and it dialed Loki's number. And it started ringing. And ringing.

 

Sam imagined a lot of scenarios when he listened long enough. Maybe Loki was sitting by his buzzing phone on the table, debating whether to answer it every time it moved on the table. Maybe Loki was partying with his conjured women and doing the Samba while the phone played some obnoxious Spanish music over and over again; he wouldn't put it past Loki.

 

Loki could at LEAST stop the _ringing_. Loki could pick it up, press answer and then hang up on him. At least then it was a clear sign of anger. At least it was an _answer_.  
  
 _Loki's voice didn't even shake._ _“_ _This is your choice then.”_

 

Sam swallowed and slowly pushed the end button, only hearing ringing.

 

“Are you calling that guy again?” Ruby asked, annoyed. “You're starting to make me jealous.”

 

Sam ignored her and pushed the button for Dean's voice mail. But even before Deans heart tearing message, Sam felt his eyes prick with unwanted tears.

 

* * *

 

Castiel never knew he could feel such crippling guilt. He stood in the vacant warehouse that held the shack Zachariah had made for Dean; full of beer and burgers. Dean had asked him, again and again for his help while he was in the room. Dean asked him to be let out to see Sam. To stop the Apocalypse from happening. Dean had asked him to help, or they were through. All that had drawn them together would evaporate without a trace. Castiel stood outside the room, in the dank warehouse, holding his head in his hands. It was unbearable to think of losing Dean and yet there was so much at stake.

 

Castiel wondered if Dean knew what he was asking of him. To help Dean. To go against Heaven. To directly disobey. Castiel had to leave after Dean turned his back on him, because he wanted to help. Castiel wanted to help. Every sense was screaming help Dean but every rational shred of logic and self preservation said to do the opposite. Because of his severance, it left a timer ticking if he survived. If he lasted so long, he would eventually face the fact that Heaven would find him, and take what was his. As he knew they always would. 

 

Obey Heaven, the cardinal rule. Obey Heaven and everything would be paradise. There would be no need for the current rules to apply to severance in paradise. If they won. IF they won. If Heaven won over Hell.

 

“ _Don't you see, Castiel,” Zachariah reasoned airily after they had torn him from his vessel. “Winning this war, ending it all, will bring paradise to us. Just imagine. Heaven on Earth. Where angels are free to keep what they've created. It just brings all that needless suffering to an end. Where angels get to keep their offspring.”_

 

It was fanciful. Castiel knew that. But Heaven was not to be for angels as it was humans; Castiel knew that. Heaven was for humans like Dean. For righteous men to live their afterlife in peace. And Castiel believed in Dean. He wanted to see Dean win, not Heaven. He wanted to be on Dean's side. It only felt right.

 

Castiel flew back into the room, stole Dean from under Zachariah's nose to Chuck's house. He was all too aware that he'd signed his death warrant then. And possibly the new angel's as well. Particularly when Raphael's power touched him and all Castiel knew was darkness.


	8. It's Just Like Heaven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (It is estimated that human civilization started about 10 thousand years ago, and I like to date the first war of Heaven then. Lucifer threw down with Michael, Raphael stayed on Michael's side, and Gabriel ran away.)

[Approximately 8,000 BCE]

 

_Coming into existence was like taking a deep breath and opening one's eyes from a dreamless sleep. Castiel woke up like this, in a heaven that was lush with green trees. He was met with angels, 4 of them. He did not know what they were at the time, or even his own name. But that was what he remembered. He remembered 4 strong radiant angels as as soon as he breathed. Three of them greeted him, and took him away from the fourth._

 

_They flew him to another angel, one who was even more immense. He was intimidating, especially to a new being in the sterile, white-roomed place. The larger angel shushed him and Castiel's head was touched and he knew._

 

_The knowledge was given to him by this immense being, called Raphael. And the knowledge was organized in importance: Castiel was an Angel of the Lord. Castiel's father was God. God gave life to Castiel. Castiel's duty was to Heaven. Castiel was to obey Heaven. His name was Castiel. Raphael was an Archangel, an absolute being... It continued and Castiel took a moment to look at himself. He was a being of energy, but he had form. He resembled the humanoids on earth, with legs, arms and with wings that were bigger than his central body._

 

_Castiel learned of his own consciousness and grace. He learned that all angels were his brothers. He learned of the archangels; Lucifer, Michael, Raphael, and Gabriel. He learned of Lucifer causing troubles around Heaven. Michael was in the process of organizing Heaven, to better it. Raphael was leading the soldiers and training them. Gabriel was an archangel more interested in human's residence than Heaven's functions. Castiel then learned of Humans._

 

_He learned so many things; that for a human to process it, it would take nearly a life time. But Castiel learned it all right away. All of the angel basics and rules, downloaded for future reference._

 

_Castiel remembered the fourth angel, the one he'd seen when he'd come into existence. He remembered the flickering light of consciousness the angel had had. But he could not remember the angel's face since Raphael bestowed knowledge unto him. Who ever the angel was, they were exhausted and no one had stayed to tend to him. Castiel grew concerned and asked Raphael, “Was that angel I saw God?”_

 

“ _Of course not.” Raphael replied sternly, as though offended by the question. “God is bigger than all archangels together. God gave you life through another angel, and God is your true father.”_

 

_Castiel learned he was not to ask questions, just follow orders._

 

_Castiel learned of severance then. He learned that he was the second generation of angel, descended from God. He learned that Michael had found a away to suspend severance, so that Heaven would not be over populated with angels._

 

_He learned that he was a soldier. He was put through basic training, which consumed his thoughts for several hundred years until he was deemed ready. In that time, Lucifer had fallen, for turning a human into a demon; his betrayal to God and his brothers. Michael cast Lucifer down into a cage in Hell until the days of end; until the famed and glorious Apocalypse would come. And Gabriel vanished from Heaven. Castiel had never even met the archangel apart from a distance. After Lucifer had turned Lilith, Gabriel was no where to be found in Heaven. And no one found him on Earth._

 

_Castiel never learned who that fourth angel was, and every time he thought of it, there was a sense of loss. But then he was reminded that God was his father. God was all of their father. And all of these angels were Castiel's brothers._

 

_Castiel witnessed angels in severance. They were beautiful. Their beings were vibrant and the sound of their grace was closest to the vibrations of a harp; which was yet to be invented on earth. The songs were peaceful and lovely. Their grace was thick and the angels grew double in size and presence._

 

_Castiel knew an angel in his garrison who was in severance and he admired his brother for it; Uriel. He had been chosen to go through his first severance by Michael himself and Uriel was quite pleased. He was only a few hundred years older than Castiel and Uriel had not expected to be allowed to go through severance. Their species was still young, like humanity. They were still learning everything._

 

_Uriel was kinder then. He was witty and cheerful. He was a good fighter but was also was playful. They would often play in the heavens of the first humans that died and Uriel favored the winter heavens, where pure fresh fallen snow was about and he could throw snowballs at Anna and Castiel. Uriel equally enjoyed watching the humans throw sticks and rocks at one another and laughed with fair teasing._

 

_Severance made Uriel somewhat lazy during his time. He would shirk off training sessions and roll around in fields and explore the tundra in Heavens above them. Uriel was content with his severance and very affectionate. He would wrap his limbs around Castiel in perfect weathered heavens and Castiel would lie there, observing the happy memories of humans. Castiel enjoyed these shirking moments and felt little guilt for them at the time. He could just close his eyes and hear the hum of Uriel's grace against him; like a lullaby. Castiel would smile because it brought him peace from thoughts of war. Anna (as an angel, Anna was also a brother) would often scold Uriel for playing around but Anna was not as harsh as he should have been. Uriel mildly teased Anna once for not getting the permission from Michael because he had asked for severance. After all, Anna was their superior, he was very responsible and strategic minded. But that slight jab was enough to have Anna fly away from them, full of rage and pain._

 

_When Anna returned with a cool head, Uriel apologized, because their garrison was like a small family in its own rights and when something effected one, they all felt it. Anna was sour for a time, at least until Uriel took him into his arms so he could enjoy the hum of the new angel. It was the closest thing Anna could have to his own severance. They all bonded with each other during that time. Sometimes the whole garrison would go to one particular heaven where the sky was raining and two lovers were kissing. For an angel it was so strange and new, but beautiful in its own way. It was not a love that angels participated in. And in that heaven, the soul mates had many children and loved them all. Castiel saw the glow of Uriel brighter at those times. After all, they were all enjoying the new angel's song, even before it had come fully into existence._

 

_Their joy was not appropriate though. Three-quarters through Uriel's severance, Raphael found Uriel, Castiel, and two other members of the garrison lingering in that heaven, observing a happy family. Raphael was disgusted with them._

 

“ _What do you think you're all doing?” The archangel demanded, looking around at the four members of the garrison and then locked onto Uriel, who had been startled the most with Raphael's appearance. Raphael took on a look of contempt. “Foolish little angels should not pine for what they can not have. You should not get attached to that new soldier. Getting attached only makes it harder to let go of what you can't keep.”_

 

_They were sent back to their post; with mercy, Raphael called it. They were not punished for being lazy with their duties right away. But Uriel realized his error. Maybe it had been the ignorance of the new world, and the angels were still learning about themselves. They had ignored the fact that in a few months, Uriel would no longer be in severance; he would split and the hum of the new angel would be gone._

 

_The joy that Uriel felt drained away even while the rest of his garrison consoled him. He seemed to be able to cope for the final few months. He did more watching of Earth than anything. He never returned to the soul mates in that heaven. He watched humans and started commenting on how foolish and pointless it was for all the mud-monkies. No one really told him to stop, but no one egged him to continue this discontent with humanity; even though it was blasphemous._

 

_When the singing of grace ceased, everyone knew it was time. Uriel left the garrison for only 2 of Earth's days and he returned tired, and less radiant. No one else in the garrison wanted to approach the subject because Uriel had such of air of despair. But Castiel took it upon himself to console Uriel. Perhaps talking would ease Uriel's heart. He approached Uriel and spoke softly, saying the new angel sounded beautiful and that he was sure it was a beautiful angel as well. Unfortunately, Castiel must have said the wrong thing._

 

_Uriel flew into a rage that was like no other. He grabbed Castiel and started hitting him, screaming that he didn't have a child, and that Castiel was to never mention it again. Anna was the one who yanked Uriel off of Castiel and restrained him. The only reason Uriel stopped fighting was when he cried out in despair and none had ever heard a howl so forlorn._

 

_Uriel was never the same. Anna was never the same either. And Castiel guessed that he was never the same as well. Even after 10 millennia, Uriel never returned to his care free ways. He was so cold and bitter. He grew sarcastic and mean. Castiel steered clear of his brother, and most of the others. He grew to like his time alone, even from the other angels. The whole garrison was wounded from Uriel's loss. And incidentally the other two angels that had been with Uriel and Castiel that day when Raphael found them also went through severance with a few thousand years between each other. No one spoke a word of them. The singing came and went. Those months seemed longer than a hundred years at times. They were but blips in time to an angel. But they were painful. It, however, was less painful when Castiel closed his eyes and did not get attached to the prospect of new angels._

 

_Castiel learned to not get attached._

 

* * *

 

 

(Episode 5.01, Sympathy for the Devil)

 

Castiel opened his eyes, mind reeling from being blasted apart by Raphael. He was hypnotized by Earth's star and he stared right back at it; thinking for a moment that he was speaking to one of his brothers. He blinked as the circular ball of sun came into focus and he sat up slowly in a field of grass and the hum of insects, undisturbed by his presence. His hand went to his chest, where he found himself whole, his vessel intact. Then lower to where the swell of grace had gathered and thickened. He breathed a sigh of relief and stood. He searched for the consciousness that had been forming since the beginning of his severance and he focused on it, and it hummed back at him with strength. A brief gasp of relief escaped him and he swallowed it. The growing angel was alright; as alive as he was. 

 

Dean... The last Castiel had seen of the hunter, he'd been sent to that church with Sam and Lilith. Castiel extended his consciousness, finding the hum of magic and he'd bet his wings that the Winchesters had cloaked their location. Brilliant. At least no other angels could find them, and they were alive. 

 

Castiel looked at his hands, staring at them. He was alive too. What had he done? Rebelled against Heaven. Rebelled while in severance. It was suicide. It was treason. And yet, he was alive. So was the new angel. So was Dean and Sam. What did it all mean? By all logic, he should be dead and his grace dissipated. 

 

God? Father? He glanced around and looked upon the sun once more, which was a warmer light than he'd felt in ages. It was welcomed as he waited. For anything. The only change of import was Dean and Sam's emergence into his consciousness and it was riddled with pain. Dean.

 

Castiel couldn't wait in that field. He took flight and rescued the Winchesters, killing two of his brothers and scaring Zachariah into healing the boys. 

 

Dean was looking at him, as though he couldn't be sure if he was real or not. Castiel let out a long breath of relief; Dean was alive. There was only moments of reprieve. 

 

“Holy shit, you're alive.” Dean muttered, and his eyes fell down to the tell tale belly, “You're still... The kid's still there?”

 

“New angel, Dean. And now's not the time,” Castiel chided briefly, but relief again flooded him like it had when he found his burden intact. Dean was alive. “But yes, everyone is fine.” And then attention turned to the Apocalypse at hand.


	9. Best Laid Plans Often Go Astray

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Between 5.03, Free To Be You and Me and 5.04 The End)

_Trapping Raphael in the circle of fire was like caging lightning in a light bulb. He was an archangel and Castiel knew there was only a limited time to get answers. And the one that Raphael gave was not the one that satisfied him. And neither was Raphael's observation._

 

“ _God is dead,” Raphael repeated with his voice full of knowing, with very little remorse, and pointed as far as the flames would allow, towards Castiel. “And so shall you be. If not now, then when the new angel is reaped from you. And trust me, we will train that one far better than we did you.” Castiel looked down at himself, feeling his time nearing; closing in on him. More than any other time before. Raphael's voice sounded amused, “You knew from the start what would happen, Castiel. You've always known.”_

 

“Okay, how the hell do we take care of a baby angel,” Dean asked. The Apocalypse bared down on their shoulders. Castiel looked up from his perch on the corner of Dean's motel bed. Dean and Sam had parted ways months ago because of the distrust Dean held towards Sam. Dean was working monster cases alone now, and he was well practiced in the art. Castiel couldn't say it was a wise move, but it was the brothers' decision none the less. It was not his place to speak about it. Trapping Raphael had not gone in their favor. If anything, it had made everything a little harder. Time was ticking, like an echo in his head. Time passed with Dean killing monsters and Castiel spent most of his time searching for God, only allowing himself back to see Dean when Dean was in need of him. And Castiel always came when Dean called him.

 

“What do you mean?” Castiel met Dean's eyes when the hunter looked up from his stack of paper work. Dean did not do as well with research as Sam did. He watched Dean struggle, even when Castiel did inform him of vital information. 

 

“I mean, when you go through labor.” Dean waved his hand and placed it upon the pile; needing a mental break from his job. “We'll have a baby angel. I mean, won't it burn everyone's eyes out? Do baby angels need vessels too? Are you going to be cleaning up cloud soiled diapers?” Castiel let his eyes fall shut, taking in and then releasing a slow breath. It was like Dean wasn't even trying to follow the correct vocabulary any more. 

 

“The final moments of severance is called the split, and it will not be a child, Dean. And... We will not need anything,” Castiel said slowly. Dean's eyes drifted back and forth, waiting for more.

 

“So, what? It takes care of itself?” Dean's voice held skepticism. “Come on, Cas, don't leave me in the dark on this. You're how far away from that... split? That's what you call it, right?”

 

“Six months.” Castiel looked down at his vessel. While Castiel did not take too much time to actually look at himself, even he noticed the expansion. The pronounced belly pushed his shirt from the suit jacket and was often more obvious when he stood. Dean mentioned sometimes that it looked like Castiel was getting a beer gut. Castiel was not concerned with looking "fat". It was ironic that his vessel was becoming more filled and yet his grace was being drained of energy.

 

“See! We have to prepare. You're down to the wire and we haven't made any plans.” Dean waved Castiel to come closer to the table to talk.

 

“Dean,” Castiel strained the hunter's name in vain.

 

“Its an angel, so it needs a vessel,” Dean persisted. Castiel's shoulder's drooped and he conceded. 

 

“Yes.” Castiel got up and took a seat next to Dean.

 

Dean was so determined; Castiel's heart was warmed by his concern. They did need a vessel, because the new angel was just that, an angel. Dean started going through towns that would not have large populations, so no one else would loose their eyes. Dean asked about angel wards but Castiel disregarded them. Castiel would not be able to stand them, nor would the new angel. He searched out a vessel with his consciousness and informed Dean that there was one that lived near a supposed 'haunted house', where it would be fundamentally safe. Castiel would just need to convince the vessel to take the blazing new angel into their body.

 

“New angels send out a beacon to Heaven.” Castiel sat at the table now as Dean was taking notes on the motel note pad. Castiel studied Dean's focused, narrowed brows. “Even with wards, the signal will reach Heaven eventually.”

 

“How long can we keep them scrambled?” Dean looked up at Castiel, who was leaning in towards him; forgetting about the 'personal space'. 

 

“With hex bags? Maybe 5 minutes.” Castiel pursed his lips. “At most.”

 

“Fuck,” Dean muttered, scratching something out on the pad. “That doesn't give us any time at all.”

 

“I know.” Castiel closed his eyes, focusing on the beating energy inside of him. “I will be debilitated. Useless. They will kill me.”

 

“Fuck no.” Dean leaned forward, fingers gripping Castiel's tie and suit jacket and Castiel stilled; unmovable. Dean was momentarily reminded that if Castiel didn't want to be moved, Castiel would not be moved. “Look.” Dean loosened his grip, his anger melded into determination; which Castiel always found breath taking. “They're going to have to get through me to get to you or Angel Baby.” Castiel pressed his lips together.

 

“Dean, the odds are not in out favor.” Castiel took account that he was no longer connected to Heaven and the new angel was continuously feeding on his last reservoirs of energy. He could not heal Bobby's legs, nor could he return to Heaven; nor nourish the new angel for the remaining months of severance. He was not sure what would happen then.

 

“They've never been in our favor.” Dean wasn't backing down, as though his very will could alter reality and have everything fall into place. “5 minutes is plenty of time to get you out of there and drive. Angel Baby can get into the vessel himself, right? Then he can get in and we'll get out of there.”

 

“... Angel Baby?” Castiel fixated on the name Dean chose.

 

“Yeah, you haven't exactly come up with a name, have you? It's a temp; I'm trying it out.” Dean raised an eyebrow at Castiel. Castiel looked down at his growing grace.

 

“I'm... tentative.” Castiel's hand rested on the mound. He wasn't even sure why he did, he could feel the other angel's presence just as strongly as his own depleting grace. He would be as good as dead if angels found him after his severance. Names seemed insignificant in this scenario.

 

“Well it's Angel Baby until you think of something,” Dean determined and it caused the slightest of smiles to appear on Castiel's face. It was so small, almost not even there. 

 

“I will allow it for now.” Castiel already knew he would tire of it soon. 

 

“So glad I got your approval,” Dean muttered and rolled his eyes. Castiel contently sat back as Dean was verbally going over things with Castiel, as though he needed someone to just nod and confirm his thoughts were on track. Dean was trying so hard. Castiel didn't have the heart to tell Dean that he felt the effort was futile. If he did not find God before his split, he would be dead; he was sure of it.

 


	10. Until We Bleed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (This chapter takes place during 5.05, the End. Because I'm a sucker for End'verse. One of my favorite characters is this one. Be forewarned, there be sex in this chapter.)  
> (Mood music: Andreas Kleerup - Until We Bleed)

Dean Winchester determined after one day in 2014 -5 years into the future- it absolutely sucked rotten eggs. He couldn't sleep; his mind and body too wired. He was sure his more-dick-future-self was patrolling because he knew he would be on a night like this. The night before going to shoot the devil.

 

Future Castiel bothered him most of all. The orgy. The drugs. The booze. The yoga and zen thing were not far from believable, but the rest... Castiel was a mess. And Dean let himself out the door of the shack to see if he could find out what happened to his friend. He waved to future Chuck was he walked by and the man did a double take as Dean reached Castiel's love den.

 

“Wait!” Chuck hissed and flailed himself on Dean before he could reach to knock on the door. He was pulled away and Chuck caught the screen door before it slammed. Dean blinked as he was pulled along the side of the building.

 

“The Hell, Chuck?” Dean hissed back and Chuck's hands waved over his and Dean's mouth, exaggerating silence and he pointed up to the window. It took a moment, but Dean started to hear it from the open window. The sound of grunting and gasping of two people in the throws of passion. Dean grimaced. Okay, Chuck was nice enough to let Castiel get laid, finally. About time Castiel had some fun. Chuck's face was lowered and fiddled with his fingers. Dean was sure that if it was light out his face would be red.

 

“Dean...” A small wave of horror washed through Dean because that was Castiel's voice, and it was coming from that window. It was low and deep, fueled with heat and sharp movements. “Fuck, Dean, please...” Dean gave a strained look to future Chuck, who gave a small, awkward smile and lifted his hands helplessly and then moved away, towards the woods so they were not heard by the couple inside.

 

“I'm not...” Dean gestured towards the cabin as they saw it from up the hill. “Me and Cas... Him-me and Cas...”

 

“Every Thursday night.” Chuck rubbed the back of his neck, unable to meet Dean's eye.

 

“Seriously?” Dean folded his arms, looking down at the cabin.

 

“You guys... they have a thing.” Chuck looked back slowly to the cabin, having seen enough of it over the years and he leaned against a tree. “Been going on since the apocalypse started. Trust me, I ended up writing it.” Dean did not even want to think about Chuck writing his porno. Dean's hands made an array of wide movements before he found words.

 

“Why?” Dean asked and Chuck gave him a wry grimace. 

 

“Ah, Comfort mostly, I think.” Chuck gripped his walkie-talkie in his hands. “And anger. And loss.” Dean's brows touched as they lowered, his lips parting.

 

“What about Angel Baby?” Dean leaned against the tree, giving Chuck his full attention and Chuck had to think for a minute but Dean knew when Chuck remembered. Chuck looked down, a low, bitter breath leaving his mouth.

 

“You should ask Cas that.” Chuck's head tilted as both of them heard the screen door shut with a slap. Dean looked down, seeing his future self pulling a jacket on and walking up the hill towards his HQ; not slowing his pace and not looking back. Dean's eyes darted back to the cabin where he saw the silhouette of Castiel leaning against the door frame until future Dean was out of sight; and then a few moments more, just looking out, only clad in a pair of loose fit pants. Then he backed out, closing the door with a faint click.

 

Dean waited as long as he could bare before he walked, not ran, down the hill to the door. Chuck didn't try to stop him this time; he just shook his head. Dean knocked sharply and there was a moment where Dean thought Castiel didn't hear, or wasn't going to answer, before it opened and there was Castiel, as bare as Dean had ever seen him, down to a pair of blue flannel bottoms. Castiel looked him up and down as Dean did the same to him. Castiel leaned against the frame to his front door, lifting his brows in greeting and the wide smile graced his lips seemed sadder than any dead pan grimace had given him in the past. 

 

“Hey you,” Castiel breathed and Dean grimaced. The alcohol was potent; and so was the pot. Not that Dean was unfamiliar with both, but this was Castiel, uptight Angel of the Lord.

 

“Cas, I need to talk to you,” Dean said and to his surprised, Castiel took his hand, giving a tug, and it was human; so very human. It was the shock of it that had Dean inside.

 

“Want a drink?” Castiel closed the door behind them and Dean glanced at the kitchenette counter where there were 2 shot glasses on either side, already used. There were two bar stools as well, one knocked over.

 

“No.” Dean said as Castiel released him and went for the bottle himself, pouring a shot.

 

“Your loss.” Castiel swallowed the shot of whiskey and he took a deep breath, as though savoring the burn. Dean stared. Castiel was so lean, it bordered on skinny. Dean could see his ribs. 

 

“You know who I am, right?” Dean asked, thinking Castiel's judgment was off. 

 

“Mm, you?” Castiel leaned against the counter and pointed at Dean, propping his face up with his elbow, grinning foolishly. “You're the one I like. You're the Dean I fell for.” Castiel laughed, as though there was a hidden innuendo.

 

“Cas.” Dean leaned against the other side of the counter, and pushed the bottle down the counter so it was more out of sight. Castiel's eyes lingered on the bottle, his shot glass still wrapped up in his worn fingers. “What... what the hell? You and future me?” Castiel shrugged, tired eyes looking back to Dean.

 

“Well yes. Frankly, you're really good at fucking me.” Castiel grinned when Dean jerked at the words that tumbled from the lips that always had that angelic strain to them. Castiel purred low in his throat and Dean was quickly getting tired of these surprises. “It feels so good with the whiskey and Mary-J.” Dean rubbed his head, he had to focus on the more important matter.

 

“Cas, I wanted to ask you what happened to Angel Baby.” Dean stared at Castiel, who's smile dimmed and the shot glass was lowered to the counter with a clink.

 

“You're a buzz kill. I don't want to talk about that.” Castiel reached for the bottle that Dean had so rudely pushed away. Dean grabbed Castiel's hand and pushed it down against the counter. Dean didn't even have to push hard, Castiel's hand just fell under the weight and warmth of Dean's. “Dean.”

 

“It's important, Cas.” Dean muttered, leaning closer. Castiel's eyes lifted to Dean's and there was pain. Lots and lots of pain. Pain that he'd only seen in a parent's eyes when Dean couldn't save their child.

 

“No.” Castiel's tongue curled with the word, but then he carried on before Dean could get mad. Mostly because future Dean became more prone to get mad when it was just 'no'. “Not unless you do something for me.” Castiel leaned his chin on his knuckles, fingers curling into his throat.

 

“Within reason,” Dean replied and lifted his hand when Castiel pulled it back across the counter.

 

“Fuck me.” Castiel was casual and Dean stood straight, pushing back from the counter.

 

“Fuck no,” Dean said immediately and Castiel chuckled darkly, plucking up the bottle and pouring another shot.

 

“Then no story.” Castiel drank it before Dean could lunge forward to halt it. Castiel waved his hand, which was far too fluid and wispy for the Castiel that Dean knew. “I have not spoken of that day for nearly 5 years and I don't plan on starting again.” Dean gripped the counter, staring hard at Castiel. 

 

It wasn't as if the thought hadn't crossed Dean's mind. But in 2009, Castiel was an angel. He was stiff and didn't express human emotions the way normal people did. Castiel had been obviously uncomfortable at the brothel with Chastity; terrified more or less. Dean had wondered if Castiel had any sexual drive at all at that point. And then there was the fact he was spontaneously pregnant. Not that the baby angel had caused to Dean to loose any interest. Actually, it made Dean want to be more involved, but Castiel was just focused on finding God.

 

But this Castiel, the 2014 one, wasn't the Castiel Dean knew. This was a drugged-up, orgy guru. There was no trace of angel left in him.

 

“Didn't I already fuck you like 10 minutes ago?” Dean turned a glare at the shot glass in front of him. In the end, he poured a drink for himself, because fuck it if he was going to have a conversation sober with his angel. 

 

“Yes, you proved your masculine stamina quite well, you'll be happy to know.” Castiel smiled as Dean tossed back his shot. Castiel took the bottle and poured Dean another shot after the glass was set down on the counter. Dean gave Castiel a raised brow and Castiel just smiled cheekily back, pouring one for himself as well from the half gone bottle. “You didn't use to drink before you fucked me, but I'm not surprised by it. I kind of miss it.”

 

“Cas...” Dean took the bottle from Castiel's hand and put it on the floor so Castiel would have to climb over him to get to it. Though in hindsight, this Castiel probably would have been all too happy to do so.

 

“I see we haven't done it yet in your time line.” Castiel drank and set the glass on the table. “Come on, Dean, it was me and you on the road, fighting monsters and having wild sex. Like I'm Louise,” Castiel leaned closer lowering his chin and looking at Dean though his lashes and Dean was more intrigued by that look than he thought he'd be, “and you're Thelma, and we held hands and drove off the cliff together.” Dean blinked, startled because he'd just said that to Castiel the other month. He was getting good at movie references. Of course this Cas had hung out with future Dean for almost 6 years now.

 

“Why...” Dean breathed, unsure if he wanted to ask. “Why did we even start?”

 

“Sh...” Castiel put his finger to Dean's lips. “I'll tell you if you share the bed with me.” Castiel's gaze was steady and Dean's throat went dry. Dean took up the shot and drank it down, coughing to get air back in his lungs.

 

“Talk first,” Dean demanded.

 

“In bed,” Castiel countered, standing up with more sway than wobble and walked out of the kitchen. Dean was still at the counter for a drawn out moment and Castiel did not come back to see if he was coming. Sleeping with an angel seemed sort of wrong, but obviously his future self was doing it. Anal wasn't exactly a mystery point for Dean; there had been plenty of sex with women. Men? No, he'd never done it with another guy. And having Castiel -of all people- asking for casual sex? It was down right alien; unheard of. But the innate curiosity ate at Dean; for both the sex and the story on Castiel's baby. 

 

He ended up following and Castiel was sitting on a mattress that was piled with sheets and blankets. It was all jumbled . Castiel patted the spot next to him and Dean stiffly sat down. Castiel sat up and wrapped his fluid hands around Dean's thick bicep, leaning into him. 

 

“We were lost.” Castiel whispered, chin leaning on Dean's stiff shoulder. Dean gazed at Castiel out of the corner of his eye, Castiel's fingers knitting together against his arm. “You'd just sliced off a vamp's head and we were in the Impala. You started it. You kissed me to get me to shut up and we did it in the Impala, front seat.” Castiel bit his bottom lip with his teeth, but it didn't look like it was a pleasant memory. “I sucked; and I don't mean in the good way. But eventually I got better at sucking.” Dean grimaced. Not the story he wanted to hear.

 

“What about Angel Baby?” Dean prodded and Castiel's mock grin widened. 

 

“If I tell you, you'll just leave.” Castiel's hand smoothed over Dean's shoulders and neck, kissing Dean's skin behind his ear, making Dean shiver. “Action, and then pillow talk.”

 

“I hate pillow talk,” Dean muttered, wishing for the rest of the whiskey because this just felt awkward.

 

“All you'll have to do is listen.” Castiel's hand slid across Dean's chest. “And get me the rest of the whiskey.”

 

“I could get the rest of the whiskey now,” Dean offered, almost feeling like he _should_ be drunk for this. 

 

“Later.” Castiel moved, sliding himself comfortably in Dean's lap. “I'll need it afterwards. Not for this.” Castiel kissed him and Dean stiffened. Castiel was much more eager than he ever expected a first kiss with him to be. Eager and fluid, knowing exactly what he was after. Dean's hands moved on their own, gripping Castiel's hips and running up his waist. 

 

Castiel pushed Dean down onto his back with enough force to knock the wind out of him. After that, Dean sort of expected the heavy and fevered pace that he'd heard earlier but Castiel didn't go straight for his pants. Castiel's hands slid under Dean's shirt and pulled off both layers with practiced ease. Then his rough hands slid down Dean's chest. One hand stopped at his shoulder, which was bare skin; unmarked. “You were shot here.” Castiel voice was nostalgic and soft. His other hand moved down, his other hand raking over Dean's abs softly. “There are scratch scars here.” Then above the belly button. “Stabbed here. That was a close call.” Dean stared up at Castiel, who met his eyes with a wry smile. “I had to patch you up so many times...” Dean's eyes slid over Castiel's bare skin. It was odd how Castiel seemed to be talking to both him and future him at the same time.

 

“You have some too.” Dean pointed out the array of little upraises of flesh and newly healed wounds; couldn't have been more than a year old. Dean touched an obvious laceration along Castiel's chest, long and knitted together with time. The scars were only illuminated by the glow of a couple oil lamps.

 

“Okami, got the jump on me.” Castiel shrugged, his hands drifting down to Dean's jeans, pushing the button from it's loop. Dean tensed, heart thudding. He was really doing this with his friend? Castiel tugged open the zipper and slid down gracefully, pulling the jeans and underwear with him. Castiel's warm mouth pressed against Dean's abs and hip bone. Dean pushed himself up on his elbows and swallowed as Castiel briefly met his green with his blue, lust filled ones. It was only for a moment before Castiel slid his tongue over Dean's half hard cock and swallowed him; his fingers wrapped around the very base. 

 

Dean was fairly surprised by the smoothness of Castiel's movements and how wet his mouth was. It was painfully obvious that he'd had lots of practice. And most of that practice may have very well been on future Dean because Castiel knew the pace that Dean liked; eager and head bobbing at a steady pace. It wasn't exactly fair because Dean was used to a naïve virgin angel, not this sexed up yoga orgy guru. 

 

Once Dean was to a hardness Castiel approved of he slowly drew off, pulling the waist band of his pants off and easily slid his bare legs over Dean's to straddle him. Dean swallowed, stunned with the ease of the motions.

 

“We do this a lot?” Dean guessed warily and Castiel lifted his eyes again, giving a half shrug.

 

“Define 'a lot'.” Castiel tugged over the sheet beside Dean and there were a couple packaged condoms and a bottle of lube, which was half empty. Dean eyed the pile, eyes following Castiel's hand as he dragged the bottle over the sheets.

 

“Often, I mean, once a week.” Dean remembered what Chuck had said about Thursdays. Castiel shrugged, languid. 

 

“It used to be more but...” Castiel's tongue and then teeth ran over his bottom lip, his hand running over Dean's chest, breathing out sharply with a wistful smile. “I was foolish back then. I thought I could keep you to myself.” Dean stared, wondering how stupid his future self had to be to not want Castiel straddling him every night. Castiel pressed the bottle to Dean's chest, lifting an amused brow, replying lightly. “Want to do the honors?” Castiel leaned down and kissed Dean's jaw, scuffing his unshaven face against Dean's smoother jaw; which was more of a turn on than Dean expected. “I like it when you open me up with your big fingers.” Dean swallowed thickly, mind reeling to a lot of the porn he'd watched on Sam's laptop.

 

“The hell did you learn to talk like that?” Dean opened the bottle and poured the lube into his hand. His fingers fumbled a bit before they smeared against Castiel's ass and then over his hole. Castiel let out a soft breath, moving back against the hand.

 

“Mm, years of you and your pornography,” Castiel whispered huskily and pressed his hands against Dean's chest as Dean's fingers slipped in easier than he had expected. Then again years of practice and plus future Dean minutes before. Castiel's breath was heavy and he was half hard against Dean's stomach.

 

“Damn...” Dean muttered, his fingers sliding in and out of Castiel's body with ease and the slightest movements of Castiel's hips. Castiel's eyes closed and Dean's fingers delved deeper, his other hand sliding over Castiel's hip and squeezing a butt cheek. Castiel smiled and dragged over a condom, pulling apart the wrapper and reaching back to roll it over Dean's ridged cock. Castiel then pushed Dean's wrist away, sliding down on Dean's cock until he sat flush against Dean's pelvis.

 

“Ah,” Castiel breathed out as he bottomed out. Dean's hands gripped Castiel's hip and ass and he rocked into the warm body surrounding him. Castiel's eyes opened partly and he looked down at Dean, licking his lips. “Mm, I wish we'd done this a lot sooner.” Castiel started rocking with Dean's movements, a slow and lazy pace. Dean wasn't exactly used to the casual talk between heavy breaths.

 

“Psh, if I knew you were eager for this...” Dean was tempted to roll them over but when he made the push to, Castiel's legs held tight, not allowing the roll, keeping the rocking and clenching his body, which made it harder not to want to thrust in deeper.

 

“Mm, I was kinda stupid 5 years ago.” Castiel bent low, kissing Dean's lips, their eyes meeting. “I didn't know how to ask. I wanted your attention. Your touch.” Castiel's eyes went hazy, inclining his head in a way that was very Castiel and Dean stared. “I didn't want this to be your weekly apology.” Dean's brows furrowed in confusion and Castiel gave that strained smile and huffed as he slid back down on Dean's cock, distracting them both. “Sorry. You make me think of the good old days.” Castiel started to move faster, lifting himself up and then impaling himself down. Dean's hands gripped tighter as they were gaining rhythm. 

 

Dean rolled his hips into Castiel tight ass. The talk thankfully ceased because it gave Dean a sense of guilt that he was not okay with. Castiel closed his eyes, body undulating with the thrusts and he was stroking his cock. Castiel was also very quiet in bed, except for the heavy breathes and the occasional sharp intake of breath that was almost a moan. He seemed to be heavily concentrating or absorbed in the moment. Dean's eyes dragged down Castiel's body, taking in the sight. It seemed... wrong on so many levels. Wrong that Castiel had to wait for a past him to come do feel wanted. Also wrong that future Dean wasn't taking care of his own angel. And Castiel wasn't even looking at him; and that just sort of pissed Dean off.

 

Dean grabbed Castiel's face and dragged him down into a kiss. Castiel's dull blue eyes opened and he kissed back automatically. And then it deepened and a low moan escaped Castiel and that sounded right. Dean cupped Castiel's one knee to the bed and he dragged Castiel down, rolling over him and pressing Castiel into the sheets.

 

“Dean,” Castiel breathed throatily and Dean wasn't sure why, but it sounded better than before. Felt more real. Maybe because it actually looked like Castiel was feeling something. His eyes were now fixated on Dean, fingers digging into Dean's shoulder. “Fuck, Dean...” The hand on Castiel's cock increased its speed and Dean gripped Castiel's hip in one hand to steady himself as he thrust in harder. Castiel was all movement now, squirming, legs gripping Dean's waist tight, back arching off the bed. Fuck...

 

“Cas,” Dean hissed and Castiel groaned at the sound of his name.

 

“Right, there. Fuck...” Castiel's head rolled back into the sheets. There were a few more tense thrusts together before Castiel keened, “Dean!” Castiel pulled hard on his shoulder, coming hard on his own belly. Then Castiel was so tight around him, it dragged Dean over the edge as well after a few more thrusts. 

 

They slowed and Dean rolled over, discarding the condom automatically. Castiel panted beside him and Dean was a bit shell shocked with the rush of pleasure and just who it had happened with. Because crap... That was good. REALLY good...

 

“Mm...” Castiel moved, rolling over half on top of Dean, following up with a brief languid kiss. His forearms pressed against Dean's chest, laying atop him. “That was... well worth the wait.” Dean blinked up at Castiel, his hands resting naturally in the curve of the waist meeting the hip of the man over him. There was a moment of looking at each other before Castiel grinned that strained smile again. He rolled off of Dean and shoved Dean's shoulder. “Whiskey now.” Dean blinked, not expecting to be pushed out so quick. Then again, he was surprised he hadn't volunteered to do it 20 seconds before Castiel got to it. 

 

He came back with the whiskey bottle and Cas patted the sheets for Dean to return to bed, belly clean from his own cum. Dean frowned and Castiel rolled his eyes. “Oh shut up, I know how resistant you are to snuggles. Just be my shoulder pillow for 5 minutes.” Dean eyed the older Castiel and sat down, grabbing his pants along the way. Castiel sat up as he took the bottle in both hands. He gulped twice and let out a low hiss as he lowered the glass. Dean got his pants on and looked to the ex-angel.

 

“February, 2010.” Castiel spoke slowly, hugging the bottle to his bare chest. He leaned against the head board, bending one leg and the other brushed Dean's knee. Castiel's eyes focused on the other side of the room. “I started going into the final chapter of severance. The moment where my grace split.” He closed his eyes. “We were hunting a werewolf. Or rather, a pack of them. We were very close to killing the last one. I told you my time was nearing. In a day or two. You decided to finish the job yourself because I was all but useless. I was graceless. My child took all of it because I was cut off from Heaven.” Dean stared hard at Castiel because Castiel had said 'child'. Not 'new angel' or 'offspring'. My child. “You threw together some angel hex bags and said you'd be back in the morning. Said you'd be there.” Castiel took a draw from the bottle and it sloshed against the glass with his gusto to get it down. He opened watery eyes, starring down at the amber liquid, in a trance. “You broke your leg on the field and you found me under the house a day later...”

 

“What happened?” Dean felt his throat dry, guilt setting in him like a tumor.

 

“I split.” Castiel looked at the ceiling, face twitching in a way that showed he was trying to control himself. “He was beautiful. He was beautiful, Dean. He was radiant and...” There was a moment when Castiel's voice wouldn't work for him. He swallowed. “The hex bags weren't enough to keep him from throwing his grace out to Heaven. New angels are beacons to be picked up and taken back.” The tears flowed freely and Dean wanted to look away, but it was like a truck wreck. He couldn't. “They came and ripped him away from me, and I couldn't stop them. I could only send them all back to Heaven so they didn't kill me, and then I hid, like a... a c-coward.” Dean leaned over, his hand resting on Castiel's shoulder, which was shaking. Castiel hid his eyes with his hand, avoiding Dean's gaze. “They always take them away...”

 

“Because... you fell?” Dean asked and Castiel managed to grit his teeth into an ugly grin through the tears.

 

“No, it's what Heaven does, Dean. It's what they've always done.” Castiel's grip tightened on the neck of the bottle. “You go through severance, you get your grace torn in half, and then you never see them again. An angel never knows its sire. Only their brothers. Never... Never to know what they're called or what department they're put in. Then you go back to work, like you didn't just have your heart ripped out and taken away. He was my son, Dean.” Castiel's chest trembled. “And I... I got attached to him because of you. Because of you... I loved him. And because of you... You...”

 

“Cas...” Dean gripped his shoulder tighter and Castiel hiccuped, his eyes down cast at the bottle in his hand, which Castiel had more than half consumed. Castiel rattled a gasp.

 

“Angels are cold; are heartless because they have their children ripped from them at birth.” Castiel muttered bitterly, pulling away from Dean's grip, holding the bottle tighter, as though there was more comfort in the drink than Dean's hands. His voice turned mocking, different from his own low tones “ _'So don't get attached to it,'_ Rapheal always said. _'You won't have it for long anyway. Getting attached to them only makes it harder. No point in getting attached to what you can't keep'_.” Castiel's imitation of Raphael was not more comforting with the forced laugh Castiel gave.

 

Dean had had enough, he dragged Castiel closer by his bare shoulder and yanked the bottle out of Castiel's hands, tossing it to the rug where it wet the dust and dirt. Castiel went tense and he shoved Dean back, but there was no angel strength, just the strength of a man. “Shut up, Cas, just shut up.”

 

“Dean-” 

 

Dean cut him off with an angry kiss, because even his name was painful on Castiel's lips. He dragged Castiel down into the sheets by his arms until Castiel stopped resisting him and sank into the mattress. Castiel's fingers dug into Dean's skin. Dean stared hard down at the broken angel. Castiel's face fell to a bitter half scrunched up mess and then all the bitterness drained into a terrible, ugly smile and laugh. “Funny, that's what you said the first time we did it...”

 

“Told you to shut up,” Dean muttered and promptly laid his full weight down on Castiel, gaining a surprised sound and look from him. The only thing between them was Dean's jeans. Castiel's expression softened and he relaxed into the mess of blankets under him, his fingers walking up Dean's arm before resting on the hand print that Castiel himself had left. A soft, barely there smile made it onto those lips and it was the realist expression Dean had seen since he'd met this Castiel. But his eyes, they were tired and ruined.

 

“I miss when you stayed,” Castiel whispered as he shut his eyes. And Dean did stay. Though, whether it was out of guilt or affection, he couldn't be sure. He felt it was important to be there; until it was time to kill the devil.


	11. Butterfly Effect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm actually quite proud that I made the majority of you cry from the last chapter. That was the sad ending for the original idea. As you can see, Dean and I didn't like it.
> 
> (In the present.) (August 2009)

Castiel flew Dean back to the road side with him a little after 4 hours were up because Dean said that was what he needed to rest his weary human consciousness. It was a good thing he had returned when he had because Zachariah had been in the room, yelling threats about sending Dean back to some place; some time. Once they were safely by the road, Dean turned slow, his eyes wide as he took Castiel in; as though it was the first time Dean was seeing him.

 

A wide smile broke out on Dean's face, relief flooding the air. “Pretty nice timing, Cas.” Castiel hinted a smile which Dean seemed to react strongly to.

 

“We had an appointment.” Castiel touched the phone in his trench coat and Dean stepped forward, grasping Castiel's shoulder. Dean lifted a hand to say something, but then, Castiel was surprised by a hug. A real, chest to chest hug which Castiel had never felt before and the feeling was warm and welcome. Castiel's muscles loosened but Dean moved back before Castiel's arms raised to clutch him back.

 

“Don't ever change.” Dean looked him dead in the eye and Castiel nodded. The emotion powered by those words were enough to not make Castiel question why. Then Dean looked down at Castiel's swollen belly, which hummed with Dean's touch and Castiel willed it to settle. “Cas.” Dean looked Castiel in the eye again and Castiel was struck with Dean's clear determination, his hand curled on Castiel's nape. “I swear, you're gonna be able to keep Angel Baby. You got that? I'm gonna be there, and no one's gonna take him away from you. 'Cause I'm going to be there, no matter what.” Castiel's throat dried and he was struck in the heart with the promise to cure all the fears he'd been feeling for nearly a year now.

 

“Dean...” Castiel had no words. Dean pulled him close, their faces almost touching and Castiel was caught unsure, but willing for contact...

 

“I... I've got to make a call.” Dean pulled away and Castiel took in a slow breath; his body tingling. He watched quietly as Dean called Sam, asking him to meet up again. Asking to make amends; to return to hunting together. What ever Dean had been through had rattled him badly.

 

They retrieved the Impala and Dean set out to drive, insisting that Castiel ride with him.

 

“I should be searching for God,” Castiel insisted as Dean was driving and Castiel's fingers slid over the worn leather of the passenger seat.

 

“Just sit still until I get Sam.” Dean said, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. It had been barely 20 minutes since Castiel had whisked Dean from his motel and Dean was still ridged.

 

“Dean, what did Zachariah do?” Castiel pondered on the infinite ways Zachariah could have tortured Dean; all the sicknesses and stresses that were possible. The endless times and situations that Dean could have been through in a short few hours. Castiel knew none that would cause Dean to react so badly; except Sam perhaps.

 

“Just...” One of Dean's hands loosened from the steering wheel to wave the question away, as though he didn't want to think about it. “Just talk to me about Angel Baby, okay?” Castiel glanced down at his burden. His fingers curled on top of the stretched flesh. “What's it like?”

 

“Carrying a new angel?” Castiel ran his knuckles over the mound. “It's like having another in your mind and being; conscious and aware.”

 

“So you feel it?”

 

“Of course. It is half of my grace.” Castiel frowned, looking at Dean. “How can I not feel it?”

 

“You just...” Dean glanced sideways at Castiel, taking in the full being he was next to. “Up to a few months ago, you didn't seem to care.” 

 

“I do care,” Cas said lowly, eyes drifting downwards, “It is half of me, Dean. I'm more attached to it than I wish to be. I feel it growing.” He felt it growing strong on his limited resources. It was his death sentence and one of the dearest things he had.

 

"You want to keep him," Dean stated and Castiel stared at him, not sure what Dean was looking for. "Say it."

 

"I... I don't even see how it's a question." Castiel breathed and Dean gave him a hard look. "Yes. Yes, of course I want to keep him." Both of his hands were pressed tight to his grace.

 

"Good." Dean sat back in his seat, no longer staring so closely at Castiel. It warmed Castiel to say it. Yes, he wanted to keep it. He couldn't give it up willingly to heaven now. "He needs a name. I feel weird about calling him Angel Baby now." Castiel inclined his head to the side. He had reasoned that he would get sick of the name before Dean.

 

"Why the change of heart?" Castiel folded his hands in his lap.

 

"It's just... he needs a proper name." Dean kept his gaze on the road. "Have any in mind?" Castiel paused in thought, his mind going over the list of names in Heaven. He'd dabbled with the idea since Dean first mentioned it but hesitated because giving something a name gave it emotional attachment. A personality. But Dean was so determined...

 

"Nemamiah." Castiel felt a smile tug at his lips as he relaxed and the consciousness in the back of his mind hummed lightly.

 

"Mamma-mia?" Dean's eyebrow raised at Castiel, as though he was making a connection to something human related.

 

“Nemamiah,” Castiel repeated, brows raising and he looked Dean's way. “The angel of just causes.” He inclined his head to look at Dean more meaningfully. “Protector and defender of the defenseless.” Dean stared at Castiel a moment.

 

“Yeah, really noble sounding,” Dean responded slowly. Castiel looked up at Dean, staring fixedly. “Any special reason?”

 

“It's just what you do.” Castiel's thumb and palm ran over his belly. “Protecting humans who don't know about demons and monsters.” 

 

Dean leaned back against the seat. He seemed stunned. “So, what, you're sort of... naming him after me?”

 

“I suppose, I am.” Castiel nodded slowly and Dean just stared at him and they were veering dangerously to the left. "Dean. The road." Dean's eyes flickered back to the road and the Impala eased back between the white lines. They had several hundred miles to cover and Dean turned on the radio to fill most of the trip.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Nememiah is an actual angel: He protects those who struggle for justice and for the rights of those who can not defend themselves; such as children and animals. He inspires us to have empathy in our hearts.)


	12. Between the Raindrops

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I pronounce Nemamaiah [Neh-mah-mee-ah], for androidtracker. Kinda like how Dean would sing Mama mia. )
> 
> (Between the Raindrops - Lifehouse)

Meeting up with Sam was more than a day's ride and Dean had only gotten the few broken hours of sleep in 2014; a few hours sleeping next to future Cas and then Dean got kicked out of bed by his own future self. It was one of the most bizarre experiences Dean had ever had. His future self didn't even mention that he was in the same bed with Castiel. Future Dean just gave future Castiel a strained look which drained what ever sly remarks Castiel had. Future Castiel then got dressed and followed his fearless leader, giving no other thoughts to the other Dean. Dean could still see that Castiel was still very attached to the future-dick he turned into. Dean wasn't sure if Castiel was just loyal to no end or suicidal. 

 

Driving with _Enter Sandman_ in the background with a quiet angel who was holding his stomach didn't ease his mind. Dean just hoped he could own up to his promise like his future self could not. Because Dean could not stand to see his angel like that. Not twice in a lifetime. Dean took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes briefly. Adrenaline could only get him so far. Dean made the call to pull into the next motel he saw. 

 

Dean got into a room and sighed, putting his over night bag of emergency gear on the floor and sat on the bed, feeling like it was the first time he'd stopped since getting zapped to the past. His mind was still wired though, which he knew would make it difficult to get his 4 hours. Castiel secured the area as safe and landed in Dean's room a few minutes later.

 

"I see no more religious sales men," Castiel announced and Dean blinked up at him, or rather, at his stomach. That larger area of mass that made Cas look, well, fat. But not in the chunky, hefty way.

 

"Good." Dean sat up more. "Good, then I should be able to get some shut eye soon." Castiel nodded, placing his hands behind his back.

 

"I shall continue my search for God." Castiel said and Dean held up a hand.

 

"Wait, wait." Dean waved him to stay and Castiel frowned, confused. "I gotta ask you something"

 

"Dean, every second I'm here is one I could be searching for God." Castiel let out a breathy huff.

 

"Yeah well, you've been popping in and out for months and you haven't found him, right?" Dean reasoned and patted the bed with a hand. "Sit a minute." Castiel made a strained expression but he obeyed, sitting next to Dean. "How's this split going to happen?"

 

"Dean, it's still several months until the split..."

 

"I know, I know. That's why I gotta ask, okay?" Dean turned more towards Castiel and the angel let out a long breath.

 

"I will convert back to light and energy and the new angel-"

 

"Mamamia."

 

"Nemamiah," Castiel corrected Dean's correction without a hitch. "Nemamiah will become his own entity. It takes nearly a second or two."

 

"And getting him into the vessel?"

 

"I shall have to communicate with Nema-Miah," Castiel made sure to say it slowly and he received rolled eyes from Dean, "and then it should be safe for escape."

 

"So, over all, how long should it take?"

 

"Perhaps a minute and a half..." Castiel pressed his hand into his belly. "If hex bags don't work at all, angels will be there as it starts." Dean cursed quietly to the ceiling and Castiel touched Dean's shoulder. Dean glanced at Castiel's strained face, then down to where Castiel's hand was on his stomach. 

 

"Hey uh..." Dean waved his hand in the general direction of Castiel's belly. "Mind if I touch it?" Castiel's brows furrowed in thought for a moment.

 

"... You may if you wish." Castiel leaned back, his hand still on Dean's shoulder and Dean's hand rested on the dome of flesh. Instead of soft pudgy flesh, the skin was taunt, as though it was hard muscle instead of of a fleshy baby belly as Dean had been expecting.

 

"Holy shit, I take back the flabby comment from earlier." Dean leaned in, ear close and he inspected closer. "It's like you swallowed a rock or something." He was reminded of the time he'd punched Castiel and it felt the same; like punching concrete and spraining his fingers.

 

"As I explained earlier, this is not a baby, nor is it fragile." Castiel's voice was softer. "That is grace. That is Nemamiah."

 

Dean felt a vibration from where his fingers rested and his brows rose high. He looked up at Castiel, who's eyes were half lidded, flickering between meeting Dean's eyes and his stomach. The feeling was like a hum and for a crazy moment, Dean swore Castiel was glowing, and not in the 'cover your eyes or you'll lose them' way. More in a parenting way; loving. Dean laughed a bit awkwardly, pulling his hand back.

 

"I... dunno, I thought he would kick or something." Dean scoffed. "Dumb I guess since he doesn't have legs." Castiel gave him that barely hinted smile.

 

"He reacted to your touch." Castiel closed his eyes. "The hum of energy, the warmth. So, in a way, he did 'kick'."

 

Dean wasn't sure why, but his chest swelled, warmed by that comment. Castiel's eyes opened and Dean looked into the bright blue eyes. They were sad, but not as broken as Castiel from the future had been. Castiel stared back at him, his lips pressing into a thin line for a minute before they relaxed. Dean swallowed and decided not to be the asshole he saw in the future. Because Castiel was important to him, more than he wanted to admit.

 

“Kinda weird,” Dean muttered, just quiet enough for Castiel to hear him. “I mean, you're pregnant, but you're still a virgin.” Castiel gave a little shrug of his shoulders.

 

“You mentioned that before, at the brothel.” Castiel grimacing slightly. “I'm sure that woman still has doubts about her father...”

 

“Yeah, yeah, I'm sure she does.” Dean waved it off and his hand rested on Castiel's leg. “I'm still not okay with you being a virgin. So uh...” There was no easy or less embarrassing way to say it. “Would you be interested in me helping you out with that?”

 

Castiel's eyes drifted up and he tensed up, staring at Dean. Dean waited and Castiel's hands pinched his coat ridges. “Do you mean you?” Castiel sat up straighter, more nervous. “Or do you mean some other brothel?” Dean wet his lips and let out a long held breath.

 

“I mean me.”

 

“You're propositioning me?”

 

“Yeah, sure.”

 

“You're asking... if we could have intercourse?”

 

“Damn it, Cas, yes.” Dean felt the heat on his face. “How many times do you need it defined?” Castiel looked down at himself, as though making sure of where he was.

 

“I'm not even female.” Castiel pointed out and Dean rolled his eyes. “I've told you several times that just because I'm in severance-” Dean grabbed the back of Castiel's head, crushing their mouths together. Castiel let out a startled sound and went still, mouth stiff as a stone against Dean's. It was brief, but it stopped Castiel from talking and Dean pulled back. Castiel's hands were now in Dean's jacket and his eyes were wide, searching Dean's face.

 

“It's a yes or no question, Cas.” Dean spoke slowly, unwavering. Dean remembered what future Castiel had said. Dean wanted to make sure sex wasn't a half assed experience in the front of the Impala, or an apology for a stolen child. If he was the one to be Cas' first, he wanted to make it good.

 

Castiel still stared for another good moment but he slowly nodded. “Yes.” Dean closed the distance between them and Castiel held still, breathing out sharply as their lips pressed together again. Castiel braced against him still, unyielding. Dean cupped the back of Castiel's ribs pulling Castiel closer, trying to manually stop him from sitting so straight.

 

“You gotta relax, Cas,” Dean said and Castiel blinked quickly and his fingers loosened on Dean's clothes. 

 

“What should I do?” Castiel stared at Dean. Dean was reminded that Castiel was a virgin in the purest of senses, because Castiel wasn't even really human; he was just in a vessel. And future Castiel had clearly practiced enough through the 5 years to get that good. So he was starting at ground-zero Castiel.

 

“First of all, relax.” Dean had experience with virgins before; not his forte, but he'd done it. “Second of all, enjoy it. This is suppose to feel good.” Castiel nodded slowly and Dean pealed the overcoat from Castiel's shoulders, revealing the dark suit underneath. Castiel watched Dean move and helped shrug his arms from the sleeves. Then Castiel moved forward, pressing his mouth to Dean's in a chaste moment of lips on lips. Dean smiled briefly and returned a with a longer, softer kiss. Dean drew out the lingering pull of their lips and Castiel softened to it, a small peck signaling their parting. Much better than kissing a rock.

 

"I liked that," Castiel stated softly, his eyes half lidded.

 

"I could tell." Dean gave a wry grin.

 

"Again?" Castiel breathed and their lips met again. It was unpracticed but now Castiel's curiosity was piqued. Castiel's lips lingered warmly, his fingers curling against Dean's shoulder, pulling himself closer as Dean guided him, mouths moving to find coordination. Dean's hands tugged down Castiel's tie, the cheap suit jacket and started to unbutton the shirt, the heels of his hands brushing against the belly. Castiel was focused on the kissing, one hand running through Dean's hair and cupping Dean's jaw. Castiel was far more interested in Dean's mouth than Dean's clothing. When Dean deepened the kiss, Castiel matched it, eyes closed, body softer than Dean could previously remember before. 

 

If looks were anything, Dean preferred the scar-less, paler, and definitely softer flesh than future Castiel's harder, worn body. Dean's fingers slid down Castiel's chest until his knuckles ran over the mound where there was the new angel; Nemamiah. Castiel's lips paused against Dean's, soft and warm; they were now fluid to Dean's. Dean looked into Castiel's curious gaze.

 

"You're okay with this?" Dean mumbled against Castiel's lips. Castiel pressed his forehead and nose pressed to the side of Dean's, getting as close as possible.

 

“Yes,” Castiel murmured, kissing Dean once more, chastely; then again, deeper. Dean leaned over Castiel, pressing him into the mattress and Castiel didn't fight him. Castiel's hands also began to explore. Castiel's hands drew down his neck and chest. Dean shucked his jacket and shirt off as warm hands slid down his chest again, but this time slower. Castiel's eyes lingered, his skin flushed. He gave Castiel one more kiss before drawing back.

 

“Hold that thought.” Dean held up a hand to signal a halt and got out of bed. He went to his over night bag, digging in it for necessary supplies. He always had condoms, but lubrication... He found a tub of Vaseline in his first aid kit and a couple condoms before he turned out the room light. He stripped his pants and kicked off his shoes before kneeling back on the bed and Castiel was on his elbows; waiting for him. The only light they had in the room was from the window, which was slowly revealing the day's dawn. Dean leaned down and Castiel drew him back into a heated kiss, breathing heavily against their mouths. 

 

Dean's hand slid down Castiel's side and hip, peeling down the slacks and the shoes on Castiel's feet. Dean's knee slid between Castiel's once they were both bare and breathing heavy. Dean's found the curve along Castiel's side warm and Castiel's palm often rested on the nape of Dean's neck. It was all slow and close; oddly more comfortable than Dean was used to. Their limbs grazed, lips never leaving for long, hands never ceasing. 

 

Dean opened the Vaseline tub and pulled back from Castiel sucking on his bottom lip. Dean ran his hand between Castiel's legs and down his thighs. Castiel's breath caught and he lifted himself from the bed, using Dean's shoulders as support. Dean guided the thighs apart, kneeling between Castiel's legs.

 

“Relax.” Dean breathed as he eased the first slick finger against Castiel's hole, which was as unyielding as his lips first were. Castiel took a deep breath and his body relented to Dean's fingers slowly. Castiel's fingers combed though Dean's hair, legs curling into Dean's sides.

 

“You're... sure about this?” Castiel breathed and Dean paused for a moment.

 

“I should be asking you that.” Dean eased the finger in further and Castiel let out a breathy sound that wasn't quite a moan.

 

“I've never... imagined,” The words stopped on Castiel's tongue, hand covering his own mouth as Dean was sliding fingers in and out. “It's... ineffable.” Dean's mouth curved into a wry smile.

 

“That's good, right?” That time Dean did get a moan out of the angel.

 

“Dean...” Castiel murmured and Dean picked up the pace with hearing his name uttered so fervently. Dean worked a little faster, opening Castiel up with his fingers. He remembered briefly what future Castiel had said about enjoying Dean's fingers inside of him and Dean swallowed because, Hell, if he wasn't hard a moments ago, he was now. “Dean,” Castiel moaned lowly, his fingers digging into Dean's shoulders to an almost painful degree.

 

“Easy there, Cas.” Dean winced and Castiel's fingers loosened their grip. Castiel wasn't exactly in a condition to heal Dean if he broke something. “How about you turn over for me?” With a little maneuvering, Castiel was on his hands and knees and Dean squeezed Castiel's side as he determined if Castiel was slick enough or not. His fingers grazed over the enlarged belly and Castiel watched him over his shoulder, normally strict blue were hazy with lust. "I think you're ready." Castiel just nodded, his elbows supporting him on the bed. 

 

Dean grabbed a rubber and rolled it on. His lips kissed Castiel's spine before he pushed in his cock. Slowly. Dean listened for any protest but Castiel only took in a sharp breath and a low groan was pressed into the sheets. He took a deep breath as he was in Castiel, all the way. He ran his thumb up Castiel's spine and there was this constant hum he felt but now that they were connected, he could feel it more. He made a mental note to ask later, because he wasn't stopping now. Dean started thrusting, which was the most familiar process of all of this. 

 

Castiel pressed his face into the sheets, breathing heavily but his body was anything but still. His back rolled up and down with his breathing and rocked side to side. Dean guided him into a steady rhythm. Their movements became synced and Castiel started moaning. Moaning Dean's name. 

 

"Dean." The moan added a new fluctuation to how Castiel said his name. Dean thought it was ridiculous how much Castiel said his name and how much meaning it held. His own name could tell Dean more about what the angel was feeling more than any human words. He felt the sad, the angry, and the happiness that didn't quite translate to Cas's face. And now he heard the utter heat of how much Castiel felt for this moment. How much passion and arousal was built up in him, as though it had been so long that he'd waited. "Dean..."

 

Castiel's fingers dug into the mattress and Dean briefly wondered if there would be finger holes to confuse the maid. Dean groaned low, thrusting harder. "fuck, Cas..."

 

"Dean," Castiel's voice had a slight up rise in tone, hips moving back at a needy pace, destroying what rhythm they had before. Dean gripped Castiel's hips as he broke the steady-wins-the-race pace and drove it home, flesh meeting flesh with sharp thrusts. Castiel dragged the sheets closer; volume steadily growing. "Dean!"

 

"Cas!" Dean groaned loudly and pushed in deep into his angel, cumming with his last hard thrusts. Dean slowed but Castiel pushed back, a low whine leaving his throat. Dean's hand searched down and he found Castiel still very hard. Of course Castiel wasn't prone to touching himself, Dean thought awkwardly. He wrapped his fingers around the base, stroking it. It wasn't as if Dean was accustomed to reach-arounds. It was only his second time with a man; slash angel. 

 

Castiel groaned Dean name in a muffled moan against the sheets; his body trembling as he came. Dean wiped his hand on a dry spot on the sheets and pulled back, his cock slipping from Castiel's body. Dean grimaced, finding the condom broken "Shit, defective rubber." Castiel did not comment, instead he rolled onto his side, his breathing starting to slow. Dean discarded the condom and his hand trailed up Castiel's thigh and hip as he chose to lay next to Castiel's back. Castiel tilted his head back, meeting Dean's eyes with his more alert blue ones. Dean's fingertips ran along Castiel's side gingerly before it slid back along Castiel's belly, pressing against the warm dome. Castiel's hand slid down Dean's arm and rested over Dean's hand; His fingers rested along the gaps of Dean's.

 

"Can't say you're a virgin anymore," Dean muttered before a yawn. 

 

"No, I can not," Castiel mused. Dean's thumb rubbed over the taunt skin, partly guilty about the condom. He would be freaking out if he was with a woman.

 

"Sorry bout the mess." Dean pressed his mouth into Castiel's nape and Castiel hummed softly.

 

"It's not of import." Castiel at least sounded less tense, perhaps even relaxed. "Thank you, Dean." Dean smiled to himself, closing his eyes.

 

"Better than the brothel?" Dean muttered. The past few days were finally catching up to him.

 

"Infinitely better than the brothel," Castiel assured and Dean was silent, breath even. 

 

Castiel knew Dean was asleep without needing to look behind him. He rubbed his palm along the back of Dean's hand. He lingered for 10 minutes, just to appreciate Dean's warmth and touch. He would have stayed longer if the pressure to find God was not closing in on him. Castiel decided to redouble his efforts. Dean's concern for Nemamiah and himself were more than a bit overwhelming. 

 

Castiel slipped from Dean's grasp and used his grace for the mess on the bed; and yes, redressing. Castiel stopped to look over Dean and he waved his hand so that the blanket that they had made love on (now clean) rested over Dean's sleeping form; without disturbing him. The grace gathered in his stomach hummed. Castiel glanced down at it; covered by the shirt and jacket. Nemamiah's feeding on his grace had diminished greatly. That caused him to pause. He wasn't sure whether to be grateful or suspicious. There was still over 6 months before the split. There should not have been any decrease in Nemamiah's usurping until it was time for the split.

 

Castiel calmed his worries with a deep breath and instead, focused on finding God. Only then could he get some answers; and some help. He retrieved Dean's amulet from his overcoat pocket and took wing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (BTW, there's this interesting study that says The more exposed a man was to his mother being pregnant and breastfeeding when he was between 1.5 and 5 years old, the more likely he is to be sexually attracted to pregnant and breastfeeding women. I just found that interesting, and of course made me think of Dean. Dean was 3 when his mom was Pregnant with Sammy. And it's well known that Dean has an extra soft squishy spot for kids and babies.)
> 
> http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/love-sex-and-babies/201109/who-thinks-pregnant-women-are-sexy
> 
> (Also, don't use oil base lubricants (like Vaseline) with condoms, it eats through latex.)


	13. Dazed and Confused

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Stairway to Heaven – Led Zeppelin)  
> (Dazed and Confused – Led Zeppelin)

Sam was surprised when Dean called him up and wanted to make amends. To team up again. Because while they were each others weaknesses, they were also each others strength. Or so Dean had said.

 

It wasn't hard to say yes. Sam wasn't sure what he was going to do if Dean hadn't called him back. He'd been convinced Dean wouldn't call, because he couldn't be trusted. Sam honestly wouldn't have blamed his brother for never calling him again. He wouldn't have blamed Dean for never picking up like Loki never did. 

 

And for what he'd done -starting the Apocalypse- he was the guilty one. He was the one that burned Lilith from the inside. If Sam had any clue that killing Lilith would bring Lucifer into the world, Sam would have gutted Ruby with her own knife when he met her. But in the end, with all the choices he'd had, he'd been the one to break Lucifer out of Hell. He had to be the one to put him back. Sam didn't know how he was going to do it, but he'd started to look. He couldn't work at the bar anymore, so he started looking for a way to stuff Lucifer back into his cage. Sam wasn't sure if Dean could really trust him again -being a vampire and all- but if Dean was willing to try, Sam was willing to try his hardest to stay clean.

 

Though riding with Dean again, after months of being on his own, Sam could tell something was different. He had not come back expecting to see more of Castiel. And Castiel had ballooned in the time Sam had last seen him. There had been just baby fat there before Sam left, but now there was actually a roundish belly and Sam stared; a lot. He couldn't help it, it was like seeing a two headed fish. He supposed, yes, sea horses and pipefish were typically the only pregnant male creatures known. Then again, Sam had to remind himself that it was Castiel that was pregnant, not Jimmy. If Sam had to guess, by comparison to humans, his stomach only looked 4 or 5 months pregnant.

 

Sam rode shotgun with Dean, settling back into the habit of cases as a team. Castiel popped into the back seat when ever he pleased. He was there for a least an hour everyday to check up on them. Castiel had welcomed Sam back politely, and then most of his attention was back on Dean. Sam would watch them simply interact. The usual pattern was casual; friendly even. Dean asked if there was any luck finding God. Castiel would say no. Dean would give a mixed nod of slight sympathy and 'I figured as much'. Then Dean would ask if he wanted to listen to some music. Castiel would say yes. 

 

Sam wasn't sure what had changed. But Dean seemed more at ease. Even though Lucifer was walking the earth. Castiel and Dean seemed at ease around one another. Calmer. Sam couldn't remember the last time Dean had really smiled. Sam had caught it once, while Castiel was in the back and his eyes were closed to the opening flutes of Stairway to Heaven. Dean was looking in the rear view mirror occasionally and the smile just eased the stress from his face.

 

Sam had to look away because he wasn't sure if he was allowed to even think that his brother had a thing for a pregnant angel. Or Castiel in general. Instead, Sam looked out the window as the world passed by. He couldn't help thinking of all of his mistakes up to then. All the terrible choices he'd made after Dean was killed. 

 

Most of those bad choices circled around Ruby. And Loki.

 

After Dean died, Loki came back to him. Loki, the trickster. They had been sleeping together for a year before then, after he met the janitor in Crawford Hall. It was just sex. At least it was until that stupid worm-hole and the hundred Tuesdays Sam had suffered through. After that, he didn't see Loki until after Dean's death. Loki had been at his door step, not offering sex, but companionship. Sam didn't want it of course. But Loki stayed, even after threats -and attempts- of being stabbed. 

 

And there was something there, something he only remembered with Jess. Something comfortable but surreal. And it was with a man, a trickster. It scared him. It scared him because Dean was gone, and he shouldn't have been happy when Loki grinned at him and stayed. And Sam wanted to stay there but at the same time his mind told him it was wrong. Because this trickster had torn Dean away from him a hundred and one times more than he could bare but he couldn't stay mad at him, even though he was so angry with himself. 

 

And then there was Ruby, who came along and offered to help him hunt Lilith. He said no first of course. But then it haunted him. He could finally kill Lilith. The last thing he and Dean had set out to do. And yeah, he should have listened to Ruby before, on several occasions. And then Dean could have been alive. Several people including Henricksen and the people at the police station may have lived. So... he went with her. Abandoned Loki's companionship for Ruby's revenge. Sam felt like he was DOING something about it then. He was avenging Dean. It let him channel all of his anger and uselessness into something. A goal. 

 

Sam winced when he thought about how he'd ended it with Loki. He'd thrown everything back in the Trickster's face. After all, he didn't ask for Loki to baby him. He didn't ask for Loki's companionship. Or love.

 

Hindsight told him he was wrong. If he'd... been smarter, he would have made better choices. And okay, Dean would have been pissed at him for being with a trickster after his inevitable resurrection, but at least he wouldn't have started the Apocalypse. And Loki would give him that smile again...

 

“Oi,” Dean said louder and Sam looked over at Dean. They were driving through a town. “You wanna get the gas or food?”

 

“Gas,” Sam replied as Dean took a turn into the gas station. Castiel watched the process of Dean pulling up to the pump and sliding out from the car. Sam wondered if it was his imagination or if Dean had really winked at Castiel.

 

“I think you need to try a twinkie,” Dean said to Castiel before he shut the door and head inside. Castiel raised his brows, watching Dean stretch his legs and arms as he walked inside the station. 

 

“It's just a sort of sponge cake,” Sam explained to the confused looking angel as he got out to pump the gas. He swiped the credit card of someone named Ed Miller and slid the nozzle into the gas hole. The smell of petroleum and the gulping of the Impala did not ease his mind. Sam leaned against the car and got out his cell phone. He again looked at the contact “L”, the one that never answered him. The endless ringing drove him a bit insane. Sometimes he'd even dream of the waiting and the buzz on the other side of the line. If Loki would just pick up. If he could just get 5 minutes...

 

Sam pressed the send button and held the phone up to his ear. It rang. And it rang. And it never did go to voice mail. But he didn't hang up. Not until the Impala's 20 gallon tank was full and the phone had rung over a hundred times. Sam sighed and slowly pressed the end button. He didn't know why he still tried.

 

“Who were you attempting to reach?” Castiel asked as Sam got back into the car; the pump was put away. The Impala was all filled up and Dean could be seen in line in the convenience store.

 

“Oh...” Sam shifted uncomfortably, hands in his pockets. “No one. Well... no one that will answer.” Castiel just nodded, hands folded over his stomach as he sat up straight in the back seat. “How's the new angel doing?”

 

“He's stabilized.” Castiel looked down, tilting his head ever so slightly to the side. It was sort of winsome, because Castiel got an endearing look on his face when ever it was brought up now. He wasn't as indifferent about his severance as he was when it was first brought up. “I think everything is well.”

 

“You think?” Sam eyed him and Castiel paused, fingers drumming on the top of the belly. 

 

“This is my first severance.” Castiel folded his hands again. “I presumed all of my grace would be gone by now.”

 

“Huh.” Sam waited for more but that's when Dean came back with plastic bag full of goods and he slid into the drivers seat.

 

“Baby's all filled up?” Dean asked and Sam nodded as Dean turned the key. Before they drove off, Dean dug out a Twinkie package and tossed it to Castiel, who caught it with swift movement. “I know you don't eat, but damn it, try one.” Sam smiled as Castiel unwrapped the twin pack with careful, curious movements. Dean started driving and watched Castiel's face in the mirror. Castiel took a tentative bite and chewed, a look of confusion mixed into his face. Dean gave an amused laugh.

 

“It's... oddly textured and sweet.” Castiel observed and declined another bite, holding it over the front seat. Dean shrugged and took Castiel's already bitten piece, chewing it with gusto.

 

“Your loss.” Dean shrugged and waved the other twinkie towards Sam, the untouched one. “Sammy?”

 

Loki liked Twinkies, Sam remembered; cakes and sweets. “No thanks, all yours.” Sam watched Dean tuck the other Twinkie in his pocket and grumbled something about no one having any taste for good snacks. Sam went back to looking out the window when Dean told Castiel to pick the next song; Dazed and Confused guided their way down the road. Sam decided to try calling again when they got to a motel.


	14. Little Monsters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (5.06, I Believe The Children Are Our Future)

Being an action figure for several minutes was unsettling at the very least, Castiel decided. Because for minutes, he was suspended of anything but hearing, seeing, and thinking. He heard Sam and Dean talk to the young cambion called Jesse. The brothers told him the truth above all things. That Jesse wasn't fully human. He was part demon and so very powerful. And dangerous. Jesse demonstrated his power by exorcising his demon sire from his human mother with just a thought. Dean talked about training the boy and that Jesse would have to leave his parents. The thought was jarring to Castiel, because that was what he was trying to prevent with his own offspring. 

 

Jesse went upstairs and only a short time later did the Winchesters follow him up. Then Castiel was snapped back from his plastic encasing and he was standing there, the demon knife in his hand. Jesse was there in front of him, several feet away near the kitchen. Both Winchester brothers were still upstairs, checking to see what was taking Jesse so long with his parents. The boy looked nervous, eyes fixated on the knife. Castiel lowered the blade and took in a sharp breath. He had seen the boy turn his demon father away. How could he kill him now that he was making a conscious choice to not be evil? Castiel, in a tentative act of faith, placed the knife on the mantle of the fireplace.

 

“I... apologize,” Castiel spoke slowly. He was very aware that Jesse didn't have to turn him back. After all, he had just tried to assassinate the cambion. Jesse's face eased from the worry and he took a couple steps forward. When Castiel made no move to grab the knife, the next few steps were easier. Castiel swallowed and his hand searched out his belly, where his grace hummed back to life. Relief flooded him.

 

“You've got a baby...” Jesse stared and Castiel softened. Castiel wasn't expecting the sound of awe in his young voice. “It's... pretty.”

 

“Yes...” Castiel spoke slowly, swallowing his unease as Jesse inched closer. The boy was curious, endearingly so. It was reasonable that Jesse was curious; he didn't have any siblings. But “pretty” wasn't what Castiel would call his state of being and normal humans could not see the grace in his vessel. Castiel inclined his head brows coming together, curiously. “You can see?”

 

“No.” Jesse shook his head. “I can hear the hum...” He copied the best pitch that human vocal cords could muster to the sound of grace and Castiel's throat tightened. It was soothing, even from a cambion's throat.

 

“You're... not evil.” Castiel resigned and Jesse blinked up at Castiel, his large eyes staring up at him. “I'm sorry for assuming your nature with your birth.” A small smile appeared on the boy's face.

 

“What's her name?” Jesse asked and a small hand reached out to touch. Castiel's hands tightened, because Jesse was still demon spawn. His instinct was to step away, but the fingers felt human and they pressed against the mound of grace which grew to a denser hum.

 

“Her?” Castiel's lips parted, watching.

 

“It's a girl, right?” Jesse asked, his hand still, feeling the reverberation of grace. He did not flinch away, he was not harmed by it's closeness. It occurred to Castiel that if Jesse wanted, he could rip the very grace from him. But the boy almost didn't know how to be cruel.

 

“It's an angel,” Castiel informed. “We are in actuality, sexless.” Jesse stared up at him in wonder and Castiel found he could no longer hate this boy than he could his own. “Nemamiah.”

 

“Nemamiah.” Jesse tried out the name and nodded. “I like her.” Jesse then looked down cast, the situation he was in catching up to him. “I should go.” Castiel nodded once, understanding.

 

“God's speed,” Castiel whispered and with a sound like a wet tarp in the wind, Jesse was gone. It was quiet before Castiel heard the pounding steps of the Winchesters coming down the stairs. Castiel retrieved the demon knife and looked to Dean, who was the first one down and the first one to Castiel. 

 

Dean's hand gripped Castiel's shoulder once he realized Castiel was regular sized again. “Shit, Cas, you're back.”

 

“Jesse's not upstairs,” Sam stated, looking around, as though the boy was somewhere else in the house. 

 

“He's gone.” Castiel's fingers found their way back to his grace, where Jesse's fingers still tingled. “He put the town back to normal. I'm not sure where he's gone to.” Dean was checking him over and Castiel tried not to be embarrassed by Dean's constant worry. 

 

“He...” Sam deflated just slightly more than Dean. “He just left?”

 

“Well... I guess we're not training him,” Dean concluded, his hand having not let go of Castiel's shoulder and Castiel didn't make him. Castiel was comforted by the touch if nothing else. There had been little contact between them since Sam's arrival. Dean looked Castiel in the eye, then down. “You being an action figure didn't screw anything up, did it?” Castiel realized his hand was still in place and he dropped it to his side.

 

“No, everyone is in order,” Castiel said calmly, though Jesse's words tingled in his mind. He wasn't sure why the boy chose the female gender while angels were normally gendered as male. Perhaps it was the human view to see beautiful thing and feminine. “I believe... Jesse will be alright.”

 

“Good. Good.” Dean's hand lingered, gripped in Castiel's coat and looking at Castiel again. Sam was watching them with a raised brow and Castiel took a deep breath. He wished Dean would kiss him again.

 

“Dean,” Sam said after a long stretch of silence.

 

“What?” Dean looked at Sam, his fingers loosening in the trench coat. Dean seemed to realize their proximity and quickly took up his arm length of personal space. Sam raised his chin and eye brow at his brother and Dean gave Sam an annoyed look. Dean then focused his attention on Julie, who was still knocked out from the demon. Dean went over to her and picked her up. “Let's get her back to her place. I'm sure she's not gonna want to explain anything to the Turners.” Castiel followed Dean to the door and watched him ease her into the back of the impala. Castiel stood in the door way, starting to feel the weight of his grace more. His own supply was leaking with every bit he used. He still had not found God and the weight of it all was starting to fall on his shoulders. Castiel looked back to Sam, who stood in the living room, still looking around for the boy who shared a curse.

 

“Sam,” Castiel said and Sam looked back at Castiel. Sam had his own hopes weighing on Jesse and a past that haunted him. Castiel took a breath, deciding to go before Dean encouraged him to go with them again. He was loosing time. “The boy can not be found unless he wants to be found. Let him go.” Sam shuffled to the door, then towards the Impala.

 

“Come on, Cas,” Dean called and Castiel shook his head.

 

“I must continue my search, Dean,” He said and took wing before Dean could protest. Castiel knew he was running out of places to look, but he couldn't give up. Not yet.


	15. Game Changer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (5.08, Changing Channels)

As soon as Sam heard that the Trickster was in the area, he immediately told Dean that they should talk to him. Not only to stop the apocalypse -as Sam had said- but also, because he'd never gotten one call through to Loki. It could be his only chance to explain what happened; maybe ask for forgiveness. Because Sam had made so many bad choices over the past year and a half. 

 

Instead, they'd stumbled into TV Land of Hell and Loki favored Dean this time around. Because between humiliation of doing a Genital Herpes commercial to the pain of the Nutcracker game, there were several other shows that showed Loki's contempt for Sam. It was nothing deadly, but it was all really painful or embarrassing. The trickster could be absolutely bitter and still have a smile on his face, and that bothered Sam. It was like Loki had discarded him; as though he was showing how done he was with Sam.

 

Dean was livid after Castiel had appeared, injured, on the sitcom set. And that was it, no more games. Sam hated stabbing Loki, but Loki wasn't giving him any choice. They couldn't just stay in TV Land forever. Castiel had already informed them that they'd been there for weeks. Finally, they caught Loki in a ring of holy fire, like Dean had planned. Sam hadn't suspected... He never once thought that he would hear the words that left the Trickster's mouth...

 

“Gabriel,” The man said in the middle of the fire, the dark warehouse surrounding them. He locked his eyes with Sam. "They call me Gabriel."

 

Sam was floored. He had been with an ANGEL. An Archangel. Sam just felt like an idiot and his mouth closed; unable to speak. Dean made the demands and when Castiel was zapped back from where ever Gabriel had sent him, Dean was more that ready to leave; over the point of pissed off as he gave Castiel a once over. Castiel of course waved off Dean's worry, as though it made no sense to coddle him in his condition. Castiel looked worse for wear, but still on his feet.

 

Sam couldn't move at first, even when Dean pulled fire alarm after their little chat with Gabriel. The archangel was solemn, watching as the rusty sprinkler system rained down on the circle of fire. Sam stayed where he was, just a few feet from the flames. Loki, Gabriel, what ever he called himself, met eyes with Sam and only narrowed hardened eyes at the younger Winchester. Dean and Castiel were at the door, all too happy to leave with the last word. Sam lingered as Dean opened the door. The water slowly ate at the holy fire, drenching everyone.

 

“C'mon Sam,” Dean snapped, open door in hand. Castiel was close behind Dean, more than agitated at Gabriel for what ever he'd put him through. Sam looked at Gabriel again, trying to find some words that would convey his regret for what had happened the last time they'd seen each other. Sam's mouth parted but one ugly sneer from Gabriel caused the words on his tongue to be swallowed again. Gabriel looked back to Dean and Castiel, anger and defensiveness clear in his voice. Gabriel was not ready to let Dean have the last words.

 

“Not much time left before you split, is it, Castiel?”

 

Castiel stood up straighter and sent a glare that Dean would be proud of. “I'm well informed, Gabriel.” Castiel sounded more tired than angry. “Raphael has already lectured me on my fate.” Gabriel scoffed, the fire around him going out with the rain.

 

“Really?” Gabriel didn't sound like he believed him. “Cause I figured Raphael would have smote you for carrying a nephilim. They're sort of illegal.” Castiel went still, the water pouring noisily around them. They were all getting soaked. Dean grew tense because there was nothing stalling Gabriel from snapping them into next week. Or snapping Castiel back away from him. Dean tugged on Castiel's arm, but Castiel stood his ground.

 

“You're delusional.” Castiel finally found words and Gabriel scoffed, finally stepping towards them. He ignored Sam, bypassing him to get a good look at Castiel.

 

“You slept with a human, didn't ya?” Gabriel accused with a cruel, teasing smirk. “I bet it was one of these two bumbling idiots.” Sam just gaped at Gabriel, confused, but Dean stepped forward, angrily.

 

“What the hell does that have to do with anything?” Dean snapped, body ridged. Gabriel smirked, waving a hand to Dean.

 

“Bing-bing-bing, we have a winna.” Gabriel grinned, snatching control of the conversation and lifting his hands to Dean like a show host. “One more pesky Winchester is coming into the world. Best you could have done really; considering Castiel is almost out of heaven juice.”

 

“You're not making any sense.” Castiel responded, a hand pushing down Dean's arm. Because really, Dean wasn't shielding him from anything if Gabriel decided to toss him about like a rag doll. Sam inched his way towards the door; and incidentally Gabriel.

 

“Well, when you were fleeing the ax murderer, it was fairly obvious you were in severance. But then, whoa, it's hard not to tell close up.” Gabriel circled a finger, pointing at Castiel's belly. “You got another soul rolling around in there, not just your vessel's.” Dean looked sideways to Castiel, who stared at the archangel. “I'm willing to apologize for the flying chainsaws.”

 

“What's he talking about, Cas?” Dean muttered. “Something wrong with Nem?” He glared at Gabriel accusingly. “Did you do something to him.”

 

“Psh, slow down there, momma bear.” Gabriel waved off Dean's anger. “You're the one that put your hand into the angel cookie jar.” Castiel's hands curled over his belly, brows crunching together in confusion.

 

“Nephilim have not been seen for several millenia.” Castiel stood up straighter, reciting information that he knew.

 

“Oh of course, listen to Heaven's records like a lemming.” Gabriel rolled his eyes. “There's one right in your gut and you didn't even realize. You can't say you didn't feel a change.” Castiel hesitated and then his fingers curled into Dean's jacket sleeve. Gabriel lifted his chin knowingly. “You can feel it.” Castiel's brows knitted together. 

 

“I don't believe you,” Castiel stated firmly. Gabriel wagged his finger at the other angel.

 

“Going into denial isn't going to help.” Gabriel stepped back, nearly waltzing past Sam again. “I just thought I'd point out how boned you are.”

 

“Gabriel...” Sam finally spoke, stepping towards the trickster, the archangel. Gabriel turned a cold stare to Sam. It was very angel like, now that Sam thought about it. No more sly jokes or obvious come ons. Gabriel was letting him know he was not forgiven one bit.

 

“You, Sam.” Gabriel pointed a finger at Sam, speaking through gritted teeth. “Don't even have a right to even think my name.” Sam swallowed. He knew that, but he was stupid like that. He always kept trying. 

 

“I just, wanted to tell you...” Sam began, because he'd say it in front of Dean if he had to, because he hadn't seen Gabriel in over a year. No contact, just a ringing phone. But Sam didn't get to continue because Gabriel was there, in front of him. Gabriel gripped Sam's wet jacket lapels in one hand and dragged him down in one tug; as though his height meant nothing.

 

“I'm sorry,” Gabriel spoke faux sweet. “I distinctly remember the phrase from your mouth. What was it? Oh, right. I remember, 'I don't need you'.” Sam was shoved back, toppling backwards into the mud and Dean was over to him first, making sure he was alright. Gabriel scoffed. “I have nothing to say to you. You made your choice.” Gabriel snapped his fingers and he was gone. Dean pulled Sam to his feet, but he was anything but sympathetic.

 

“Sam. Car. Now.” Dean pushed Sam towards the exit and only then did Castiel allow Dean to lead him out the door. Sam looked around the ware house once more, gut sinking. He was more wounded by Gabriel's quick composure than the shove into the dirty, wet floor. Sam slowly resigned and slid his hands into his pockets, following Dean to the Impala.


	16. Let Sleeping Angels Lie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Evil Woman – Black Sabbath)
> 
> You know, I had completely forgotten Gabriel was the angel to tell Mary she was pregnant. It was totally unintentional, but highly appropriate that he told Castiel he had a nephilim. :D Gabriel is the messenger of the lord and all. He's like the pregnancy test angel. But... that sort of also means Gabriel can walk in in a doctor's coat and go "You're pregnant". Gah, THIS. Even in another story I have, Gabriel is telling people they're pregnant. It's like his perfect job. 
> 
> He's and Mpreg angel, that's just it. It makes all kinds of sense right now.

“Yeah, okay,” Dean said into his cell phone as he drove his angel and brother towards Bobby's. “We'll be there soon, we'll help you research even.” Sam looked out the window, his fingers covered his mouth; watching the scenery fly by. Castiel watched from the back, hands on his belly. 4 months left, Castiel thought, and Gabriel said he was carrying a nephilim. A beast that angels are told to kill on sight. He remembered them. Beings that could wrestle with an angel and win. They were as bad as cambion in the eyes of Heaven. That was the result of his and Dean's union? A creature such as Jesse? Jesse, the boy of demon spawn, that didn't want to fight. Half demon that wasn't evil. Castiel had gone against that overhanging law from Heaven as well.

 

Castiel tensed, he couldn't imagine killing this angel. This nephilim. If it was a nephilim, as Gabriel said, it was half Dean's; and that made him/her very special.

 

“Yeah, see ya in a few hours, Bobby.” The cellphone clicked shut. Castiel noted the whiteness of Dean's hand on the wheel. 

 

There was dead silence and the thickness in the air was nearly felt between Castiel's finger tips. The great quiet before a great Winchester storm. Castiel felt the sudden urge to disappear, to take wing; but his wings felt heavy. Surviving Gabriel's wrathful prison had taken a lot out of him. He'd ran, fought, and hid for days at a time. His grace was more stable now, but drained. He felt... tired.

 

“You want to tell me what you did to piss off an archangel so bad?” Dean said with as much controlled frustration as he could, his eyes gracing Sam with a look of suppressed anger. “Cause I got the impression from all your Tuesdays that you would be the one pissed off.” Sam pressed his knuckles to his mouth, seeming as though he was going to ignore Dean at first.

 

“I...” Sam looked over at his brother. His eyes watery and pained “It's... complicated.”

 

“UN-complicate it.” Dean stressed through his teeth. Sam rubbed his hands over his face and took a deep breath, unloading another secret he held hidden from his brother.

 

“Loki and me... I mean, Gabriel and I have... we were sort of. We were having sex.” Sam slowly glanced back to Dean, who was eyeballing Sam intensely. His lips were pursed, as though unable to believe Sam had just said it. Sam decided to just spill it all out at once. “It started after... during the first time we met the trickster. And we kept meeting up for it. It just, kept happening. But... it stopped after all the... the Tuesdays.” Sam gave a funny sort of neurological twitch from saying it. “And... and I ended it with him. He... I haven't seen him since you've been alive again.” Dean was strained, his foot on the accelerator harder than normal.

 

“The fuck is it with you and sleeping with monsters, huh?” Dean growled, “And since when did you go around fucking guys, huh?” 

 

Sam threw a scowl Dean's way. “Like you should be talking. Apparently you had sex with Cas? What the fuck is that about?”

 

“Don't try to turn this on me! You were sleeping with fucking Gabriel fucking archangel YEARS ago. It's completely different than me and Cas.” Dean snapped, eyes flickering to the rear view mirror for a quick moment, seeing no one sitting in the back seat. “Cas and me well...” he took a moment to really look in the rear view mirror. “Cas?”

 

“Yes, Dean?” was a groggy reply. 

 

Sam and Dean glanced back, seeing Castiel was lying on his back on the seat of the Impala; eyes half open. Dean's eyes widened and he pulled over the Impala and unbuckled his seat belt.

 

“Fuck, fuck, did that asshole do something to you?” Dean was out of the driver's seat and opening the back door before Castiel could even answer. Sam just stared, unable to remember a time when Dean had looked so freaked out.

 

“No, Dean, shh...” Castiel grasped Dean's hand when the older Winchester was leaning over him in the back seat. Dean quieted once Castiel responded. Castiel took a deep breath. “Nemamiah has taken most of my grace. My strength is not quite up to par.” Castiel pressed Dean's knuckles to his prickly cheek, eyes closing, his other arm curled over his belly. “I just need a few minutes to recuperate. Please, continue with your argument about Sam's poor choices in sexual partners.” 

 

Dean clenched his teeth together in a way that formed an ugly forced smile. “Yeah, sure. How bout some Motor Head, huh?”

 

“That would be nice, Dean.” Castiel settled further into the worn leather seats and did not resist when Dean pulled his hand back and shut the door. Castiel turned his face to the back of the Impala, one arm curled over his belly. Dean got back into his set and popped in the cassette tape, giving Sam a strained look, but not one of pure anger like before. Sam pressed his lips into a thin line as Dean turned the music down to a tolerable roar and he turned the Impala back onto the road, with more determination to get to Bobby's. And for the first time in Castiel's existence, he slept.

 

* * *

 

 

“I just... can't figure it out?” Sam finally broke the silence in the Impala.

 

“What?” Dean glanced at Sam, but kept most of his focus on the road.

 

“How you slept with, Cas.”

 

“What do you mean how? You slept with freaking Gabriel...”

 

“I mean, you didn't find the obvious bundle of joy an obstacle?”

 

“Well...”

 

“I mean, come on Dean, I've seen the girls you sleep with.”

 

“Look, it's not exactly an obstacle.”

 

“Hello, Dean. There's an obvious belly, right there...”

 

“It wasn't an obstacle, it was more of a... an added bonus.”

 

“... Oh gross.”

 

“Gross, what?”

 

“Dean, he's angel pregnant.”

 

“Aaand?”

 

“That's not a turn off at all?”

 

“Are you actually asking me what gets my rocks off, cause I can assure you, you can go through your history on your computer to find that out on your own.”

 

“Okay, one, stop looking up porn on my computer.”

 

“Stop making the passwords so easy to figure out.”

 

“Just stop touching my stuff. Look, I just had no clue you were into pregnant... people.”

 

“I'm... not. I mean, it's not a freaking fetish if that's what you're asking.”

 

“... Then what is it?”

 

“It's complicated and it's none of your business. I'm not going to go into weird detail like you do with Ruby.”

 

“... can we not bring up Ruby?”

 

“You were the one SO into Ruby, you just wanted to brag about he sex you two had-”

 

“Dean!”

 

“What's with you? You were all for Ruby before she back stabbed you. You can't say there was nothing there...”

 

“Ruby... was the reason I broke it off with Loki.”

 

“... REALLY Sam?!”

 

“I know, I know...”

 

“Why the Hell...” A long deep breath. “You traded a freaking archangel for a demon.”

 

“Dean, I only found out he was an angel an hour ago. He was just... a trickster back then.”

 

“Still better than a demon.”

 

“Dean.”

 

“Alright FINE.”

 

“It was just... another bad choice that I made. Because... Because he came back after you died and he was... he was trying to help. He was there for me, trying to help me through your death. And then... Ruby said she would help me kill Lilith and I... I was so stupid. I went with her.”

 

“... you just freaking left?”

 

“Of course not. He found me, and I ended it. And he said... he was through. I just...”

 

“... God, don't cry.”

 

“Shut UP, I'm not crying. I just know now that it was the worst choice and I've hated myself everyday for it, so don't rub it in.”

 

“...”

 

“...”

 

“... How about some tunes?”

 

“Yeah, sure.”

 

Dean turned on Evil Woman and sat back, letting the music speak for him.

 

“You're such a freaking jerk.”

 

“Sing it, bitch.”


	17. Children of Angels and Humans

Castiel woke to the dark of the Impala, the hum of the engine and the whine of an electric guitar. Sam was leaning on the passenger window and Dean was tapping his thumbs on the steering wheel, murmuring the lyrics under his breath. Castiel sat up and pulled himself closer to the front seat to hear the words and Dean glanced back at him over his shoulder. “Hey, hey, sleeping beauty awakes.” Castiel looked in the rear view mirror and did not think messy hair and his tired eyes made for the definition of 'beauty'. “How you feeling?”

 

“Awake,” Castiel breathed out and recognized the area. They were merely minutes from Bobby Singer's. “Did we fly? I only closed my eyes for a moment.”

 

“4 hours ago.” Sam looked back at him, brows creased with concern and Castiel slowly blinked at the younger Winchester. 

 

“I slept...” Castiel murmured and sat back in his seat, a troubled feeling settling in him. 

 

“Yup,” Dean nodded, “All 300 winks.”

 

“240,” Sam corrected quietly.

 

“I hope... it doesn't happen again.” Castiel breathed deeply, his hand resting on his belly, which thrummed with inaccessible grace. The consciousness was still strong in his mind, which meant they still had time. Time to prepare, time to learn about what was happening. 

 

“What do you know about nephilim, Cas?” Sam turned half way around in his seat.

 

“They were once the result of the unholy union of a fallen angel and a human.” Castiel recited from memory, eyes drifting down, “They were said to be greater than both combined. And were to be killed upon sight.” Heaven had infinite knowledge on severance, but Castiel could not remember anything on creating nephilim. The only thing he'd been trained in was that nephilim were monsters, like any demon or vampire; they were to be smote without question. How they came into being was never discussed, but then again, the rule of never lusting after humans was also a stone carved rule. 

 

“Like cambion? Like Jesse?” Sam's hand gripped the leather and it squeaked under the pressure. 

 

“Like Jesse.” Castiel looked at Dean in the rear view mirror, only seeing his eyes focused intently on the road. “They were prevalent before the flood, and were very dangerous. It took many angels to smite one.” Castiel had watched brothers fall from the nephilim's power. He curled his arms around his belly. He had never let himself think of them as angel-kin. He never had reason to think upon it until now.

 

“The flood?” Dean straightened up. “The big world drowning flood? Ark and all.”

 

“Yes, flood that drained in to Tartarus and banished to the world of darkness.” Castiel leaned back against the seat, breathing slowly. “None have been seen since.”

 

“I bet.” Dean pulled into Bobby's lot and parked near the house. Castiel slid out of the seat and Dean was there, in case Castiel was unsteady. Castiel blinked slowly and shut the door after himself.

 

“I'm fine, Dean, I'm still several months away from the split.” Castiel followed Sam to the front door. Dean's arms dropped from their half cocked position and he followed him.

 

“I'm still new to this baby thing, give me a break.” Dean followed at Castiel's shoulder. Castiel started in with an exasperated sigh

 

“Dean, it is not a human baby-”

 

“It very well could be now, couldn't it?” Dean cut off Castiel's 'new angel' statement and Castiel looked down at his belly which was only inflated so much. His stomach had not even grown since they'd laid together.

 

“I... don't know.” Castiel frowned, realizing that he did not know the complications of begetting a nephilim. How did Gabriel even know it was a nephilim? Castiel still didn't sense a physical presence inside him, just grace and energy. “I don't know... why Gabriel would make such accusations if they did not hold some grain of truth...”

 

“Truth.” Dean scoffed. “He's been a Trickster for how long? He... He's lying. Probably.” Dean was trying to be convincing, but he did not sound sure. Castiel looked over at Dean, pausing before the door.

 

“Do you regret it?” Castiel whispered and Dean stared at him, unmoving. Dean's mouth hung open and his gaze drifted down to the grace, no sound leaving him for a good moment. The question stung both of their minds.

 

“Would you get yer damn asses in the door already.” Bobby wheeled by Sam in the house and Sam was waiting in the door way. “You've got research to help with.” Sam was watching them with an amused smile and and raised brows. Dean was first to move, urging Cas forward with a hand on his back; not leaving him behind in the dark.

 

Every one took up a book in the library/living room and Sam turned on his laptop at a table, scanning what the net had to offer. Castiel shortened the research considerably, picking out a bible from the stacks and deposited it into Dean's lap. “Genesis 6 and Numbers 13. They are the most informative sections that humanity has on nephilim.” Bobby dropped his book on his desk, giving up because he'd been searching for hours in various sections of the bible.

 

“That's it?” Dean started flipping through the pages.

 

“There's not much.” Sam grimaced, scrolling through his screen. “No news, just speculation.”

 

“There ain't been a hunter who's hunted them.” Bobby eyed Castiel and his bun in the oven. Bobby had been told of Castiel's little “bundle of joy” but the nephilim thing was new. “Weren't you already knocked up before? How can it turn into a nephilim all of a sudden?” Sam and Castiel looked at Dean, who slowly looked up from the pages from the couch. Bobby knocked his hat off as he pressed his palm to his head. “Boy, keep it in yer pants.”

 

“It wasn't LIKE that.” Dean's face grew to a nice red, flipping through the pages quickly. “How was I supposed to know this could happen? It was... heat of the moment, I swear.” Sam made a funny twitch at the word choosing and looked back to his laptop. “I mean, if Gabriel's even telling the truth.”

 

“Think it was all poppy cock?” Bobby looked between them as Castiel sat in a chair, upright and hands folded over his grace.

 

“Something... is different,” Castiel admitted. “My grace is still somewhat intact, depleting less, but it's not yet time for the split. In all actuality, I should be out of Grace completely.” 

 

“What would happen then?” Sam asked and Castiel's shoulders rolled upwards in a stiff shrug. 

 

“I don't know.” Castiel's fingers gripped his white shirt, not wanting to think of that option.

 

Dean cleared his throat, bible open to the proper section. “ _'When human beings began to increase in number on the earth and daughters were born to them, the sons of God saw that the daughters of humans were beautiful, and they married any of them they chose. Then the Lord said, 'My Spirit will not contend with humans forever, for they are mortal; their days will be a hundred and twenty years.' The Nephilim were on the earth in those days. And also afterward, when the sons of God went to the daughters of humans and had children by them. They were the heroes of old, men of renown.'_ ” He scanned the rest of the page. “It goes on about how God is ashamed for making human beings and kills them all.” Dean scoffed. “This God is a regular Bukowski.” Castiel frowned, eyes down cast to his burden, remembering his resurrection. Why would his father regret his creations? Castiel swore humans painted God in a very dark light in the bible.

 

“So angels came down and started painting the town red.” Bobby picked up his bottle since he didn't have to pour over more books.

 

“That was Egypt, actually.” Castiel said thoughtfully, remembering the plagues and how the streets were streaked with blood of the human firstborns that were slew. Even then Castiel could not quite bring himself to hurt an innocent child. “Several hundred years before that, many angels rebelled and broke away from heaven. Heaven believed that they started creating nephilim.” Castiel looked to Dean, who had flipped to the other section Castiel had pointed out. 

 

Dean blinked and looked down at the section, sighing because it was a long one, “'The Lord says to Moses...'”

 

“Skip to 30, Dean.” Castiel advised from across the room and Dean scanned down.

 

“If you got it memorized, be my guest,” Dean grumbled, flipping the page and he took a deep breath. “ _'Then Caleb silenced the people before Moses and said, 'We should go up and take possession of the land, for we can certainly do it.' But the men who had gone up with him said, 'We can’t attack those people; they are stronger than we are.' And they spread among the Israelites a bad report about the land they had explored. They said, 'The land we explored devours those living in it. All the people we saw there are of great size. We saw the Nephilim there. We seemed like grasshoppers in our own eyes, and we looked the same to them'._ ” Castiel focused on the words from Dean's mouth, which was peaceful in its own way, even while the tale itself was of woe.

 

“So they're big?” Sam concluded, glancing to his computer. “Says nephilim translates to giants.”

 

“I think that's a very literal translation.” Castiel gesture to himself. “I'm considered a giant in my true form to humans, but in this case it is related to power. They look human and act human, and are anything but." They were something even an archangel would have concerns dealing with.

 

“Like Jesse.” Sam concluded and Castiel confirmed with a nod. The parallels between a nephilim and a cambion were starting to concern him. “But we won't know for sure for four months, right?”

 

“Yes.” Castiel looked to Dean, who was pointedly avoiding eye contact now. “Dean.”

 

“What?” Dean raised a brow at him.

 

“Do you believe the plan we made earlier was sufficient?” 

 

“Oh, uh...” Dean frowned, as though remembering something. “We should look for a back up place. Just in case.”

 

“Just in case...?” Sam prodded, pausing in his typing to look over his screen at his brother.

 

“In case, I don't know...” Dean tossed the bible on the table with Sam and sat up. “In case there's a pack of werewolves in the area or something.” 

 

“What the hell? Pack of werewolves?” Sam sat bolt upright, staring at Dean.

 

“Just look for a back up place is all I'm saying,” Dean said and Sam sighed, fingers tapping away at the keys. Castiel gaged his strength. His wings were heavy, but still useful.

 

“I shall use the rest of my time to look for God.” Castiel stood and Dean was up on his feet.

 

“Cas, what if you go graceless while looking for him.” Dean lifted his hands in reason. “I can't drive half way across the country to pick you up if we get stuck working something.”

 

“I'll be alright.” Castiel spoke with confidence. “I'm rested from the encounter with Gabriel, I have plenty of strength.” Dean frowned.

 

“Cas, how can I promise to be there for your big split if you zap out of here?” Dean argued. Castiel looked to the hunter.

 

“Dean, I have limited time as it is, I can't spend it sitting here because you're worried about my safety.”

 

“I'm not just worried about your safety.” Dean pointed to Castiel's belly, where the new angel, or possible nephilim hummed at the attention. “What if you get stuck, or caught and you can't get back, huh? What if you go into labor and the angels came down and take him? How the fuck am I supposed to help if you're half way across the planet?” Castiel's mouth parted, eyes looking downward for an answer. “Come on, Cas. You fell ASLEEP in the car. For four hours.” Castiel pursed his lips for the longest time, staring into Dean's stern gaze.

 

“I... will stay.” Relief flooded Dean's face, his shoulders dropping. “But only if I may come on hunts with you.” Dean's teeth gritted, brows narrowing.

 

“But...”

 

“Those are my conditions. I refused to sit useless and burden Bobby's house.”

 

“For the record, I second that motion.” Bobby wheeled passed them to his way to the kitchen while 'the love birds had their pissing contest'; as Bobby had mumbled. Dean looked to Sam for help and Sam shrugged.

 

“You did want him to stay close, Dean,” Sam offered, looking back to his laptop. “And come on, it's Cas, can't stop him from doing what he wants.” Dean sighed, running his hand through his hair.

 

“Fine. Fine,” Dean relented. “Just, you know, stay within an hours drive or something.” Dean watched as Castiel retired to the couch, sitting. Dean picked up the remote for the TV from the table and tossed it in Castiel's direction. Castiel caught it and inspected it. “You may as well catch up on your pop culture while you're here.” He plopped down on the couch next to Castiel and pressed the power button while it was in Castiel's hands. Castiel looked down at the remote for a minute, then handed it back to Dean.

 

“I wouldn't know what to watch,” Castiel said and Dean flipped through the channels as Bobby rolled in with a few beers.

 

“No makin' out on my sofa.” Bobby returned to his desk and Dean sighed, knowing neither Bobby or Sam were going to let up because of what he did with Cas. Bobby also threw a book at Dean, which he barely caught before it his him in the face. “And don't be a lazy bum, learn somethin' while yer here.” Castiel was handed the controller back by Dean after that and explored the world through a box full of radio waves and light signals.


	18. Parthenogenesis

“Ha! I found it!” Sam announced maybe a little more expressively than he intended. Castiel glanced up from sitting on Bobby's desk and Dean woke with a start from the couch. 

 

“What-what do I need ta kill?” Dean searched around blearily, searching for his knife that was not under the jacket he'd stuffed under his head at 2am. 

 

“Oh, I uh...” Sam cleared his blurry vision with his hands and focused on the clock very hard. 3:57 am, “Sorry, I just, I think I found out how the angel became a nephilim.” Dean groaned, burying his face in his hands. 

 

“Damn it, Sam. I thought we were under attack.” Dean's legs swung over and he propped himself upwards with his feet flat on the ground. Bobby had gone to bed long ago and Dean wished then he'd turned off the TV earlier; but Castiel has been intrigued by a TV show and Dean hadn't wanted to interrupt the peaceful spell in the room. Castiel put down the dusty tomb that was in a language that Dean could barely understand, even if he was fully awake. 

 

“What did you find?” Castiel walked over to Sam, looking at the screen; he was the most awake and alert person there. Of course Dean remembered that Castiel had actually slept for 4 hours before they got there. It didn't mean Castiel was up to snuff yet. 

 

“Parthenogenesis,” Sam announced and Dean stared at his sibling, as though he couldn't believe he was serious.

 

“You stayed up all night to find a weird medical kink? Sick.” Dean muttered half into his hands and Sam rolled his eyes.

 

“It's not a medical kink. Gross. It just bothered me that Cas is already pregnant and then he gets somehow... more pregnant.” Sam looked to Cas before the angel could open his mouth to correct him, “Just let me get this out in human before you start correcting me, okay?” Castiel slowly closed his mouth and he walked back to sit back on Bobby's desk. 

 

“Fine, how did Cas get _more_ pregnant?” Dean dared to ask, reaching for the rest of the beer he swore he'd left on the floor.

 

“Well, since angels apparently can get pregnant on their own, it means they're asexual. But get this, there are different levels of asexual reproduction in nature. Many of which...” Dean waved his beer bottle around, giving Sam a pointed, tired-eyed look.

 

“Point Sam, get to the fucking point, I just woke up.” Dean swallowed from the bottle and Sam sighed.

 

“Parthenogenesis. It is when an animal, or well, mostly insects, reproduce asexually, but they can also use normal sex to widen the genetic pool of their offspring.” Sam made little gesturing motions towards his computer screen, the bags under his eyes were more obvious than usual. “Like bees.” Dean's eyebrows slowly raised up.

 

“Cas is a bee? Well, now all of the answers of the universe have been answered. I now know everything. I can die happy.”

 

“No, look, shut up. I'm saying some of this makes sense.” Sam took a deep breath, raking his hand through his hair. “Just listen. Queen bees lay eggs, all their lives. Eggs that are not fertilized are called drones. They only have one set of Chromosomes, and they are full clones, with no other DNA but that of the queen that laid it. Eggs that are fertilized become worker bees, with two sets of chromosomes and thus are different from the drones, who only have one purpose. What do you think?” Dean just stared, completely lost with what Sam was saying.

 

“Cas is... a bee?” Dean said slowly. All he knew was that bees made honey. What was so complicated about it? Sam deflated.

 

“You have no clue what I'm talking about, do you?” Sam concluded.

 

“Fuck no.” Dean laid down again, the empty beer bottle on the floor again. Sam looked at Cas, who's brows were raised in interest.

 

“Please tell me you get it, Cas.” Sam begged and Cas focused on Sam.

 

“There may be some parallels, but I don't think you quite understand the rolls of queens, workers, and drones.” Castiel mused thoughtfully. Sam's brows lowered. 

 

“It's an example, Cas.” Sam cast a frown at Dean's back. ”In effort to educate Dean.”

 

“Sleeping,” Dean muttered loudly to the couch so Sam could clearly hear him.

 

“So, what you're saying is,” Castiel looked down as his grace, placing a palm over the mound, “Angels begin to go through severance and what we produce is a 'clone' angel. But if we go through severance and sleep with a human, it becomes 'fertilized' and it becomes a nephilim. But instead of DNA and fertilization it's grace and human essence.”

 

“Yes, YES, exactly!” Sam's hands gripped over his head in triumph as Castiel mulled over the idea. It made a strange sort of sense. “Because you keep saying angels are sexless, I mean what if you're not? What if you're all inherently female, or both, and this is what happens to reproduce? You said all angels naturally reproduce, right?”

 

“Yes...” Castiel frowned some, because he was raised knowing God was his father. But another angel made him... Castiel held his head, remembering the blurred outline of a dimmed grace. “But, why would Father design us to be like this?” Sam's smile fell, thinking quietly for a moment.

 

“Why can a werewolf or vampire bite change a human?” Sam countered and Castiel's eyes opened, blinking steadily, “Maybe, I don't know, it's blending science and... and paranormal.” Sam yawned and closed his lap top, running his hands down his face again. “Maybe I'm going crazy, maybe it's nothing.” Sam looked over when Dean snored, signaling he had returned to finish his sleep cycle. Castiel was in deep thought, looking at Dean with a gaze of... restrained want. Sam stood and plucked up his cell phone. “I... got to make a call.” Castiel just nodded and Sam took his phone outside.

 

Once outside, Sam dialed a number and muttered a curse under his breath when the automated teller informed him that the number he called was no longer in service. It rang just fine a few weeks ago... Maybe Gabriel had finally decided to cut the last connection they had. It had been over a year since Sam had called it off. But Sam hadn't imagined a ringing phone for 4 months. Maybe Gabriel had been unsure as well. Sam decided not to give up just yet. He couldn't give up. There was another way to contact Gabriel now because Sam knew he was an angel. An archangel. GABRIEL the archangel. Sam clicked off his phone taking in a shaky breath. He hoped Gabriel heard his prayers and answered because damn it, he screwed up. He just screwed everything up.

 

“Gabriel.” he spoke, trying out the name, which was so odd after thinking Loki for so long. “Gabriel, it's.. it's me, Sam Winchester.” He looked around and listened for the flutter of wings, or snap of fingers, but there was nothing. Of course, he had angel sigils carved into his ribs, just so angels couldn't find him. “I know, I'm the last person you want praying to you, but I really, really need to talk to you. I know I screwed up I know I did. I, I said things I didn't mean. I was so focused on killing Lilith that nothing else mattered and I'm really, really sorry for hurting you. Because you were only trying to help me. Please just... I want to talk. If... if you could open the line back up or, or call me. My number is the same...” He waited for a ring, anything. He did it correctly, right? He tentatively opened his phone and dialed the last number and held his breath as he pressed it to his ear...

 

“ _The number you have reached has been disconnected-”_

 

Sam snapped the phone shut, “Damn it...” His shoulders drooped. “Come on, Gabriel... talk to me, please.” His phone started ringing and he nearly dropped it from being startled. He quickly opened it, putting it to his hear, “H-hello? Ga...” Sam pursed his lips together into a thin line, hearing the voice. He closed his eyes, letting out a breath. “Hey. Hi... Becky. Yeah... How... how did you get this number?” Sam rubbed his eyes, feeling a headache. “Right... Chuck. Well Becky, it's really great to-” He hung up the phone and would remember to block her number later. He swept some gravel with his foot and headed inside, downtrodden. 

 

Sam got into Bobby's and glanced in the living room, finding Dean had rolled over, still asleep and Castiel had moved a chair next to the couch, watching over him. Sam watched the scene for a moment then took a deep breath. Castiel didn't stir, but he watched Dean with soft focus and Dean slept on, unaware.

 

“I'm going to get some sleep,” Sam muttered and Castiel barely responded with a nod of his head as Sam headed upstairs to the guest bedroom. 


	19. Unanswered Prayers

_“Hey... Gabriel, just wanted to let you know... I'm alive I guess. I... guess you don't really want to know that though. You um, you probably want the opposite fact to be true. Sorry, just, praying is odd since I know it's you and you're mad at me. And you have every right to be pissed at me. I screwed up. I screwed up a lot. I screwed up the whole world. I should have listened to you. I know I shouldn't have been an idiot, and I should have listened to you, because you were right. You were right about everything. Please, call me.”_

_“Gabriel, open the line back up, or call me. Please. I'm sorry about Ruby. I know now that it was stupid. I know that now. I'm sorry I didn't realize it sooner. She was tricking me since the moment I met her. It was stupid, so very, very, very stupid. I'm an idiot. She... She's dead now. I know that doesn't make up for anything. It doesn't make up for what I did. It doesn't make up for anything. But, I know now. I know I made a stupid choice and I want to make up for it. We're adults, we can talk this out." There was a short pause. "Right?”_

_“Gabriel I'm uh, I'm going on a case with Dean and Cas. But I still want you to call me. Cause I'll stop in the middle of a case to talk to you. Please? Just call me. I mean, maybe you deleted my number. It's 555-7654. Just... in case. You know.”_

_"Gabriel, please, open the line up. I want to at least know you're hearing me. I want to apologize in person instead of over a prayer line that may or may not work. I mean, Dean prays to Cas, or prayed to Cas. I'm not sure if you can hear or not because you haven't been in Heaven or connected to Heaven for thousands of years. I'm not even sure if it works like that." There was a deep sigh. "Look, just call me tonight. Or a text. or something that let's me know that you hear me. Please."_

_“Okay, Gabriel...” The slur of words were slow and sad with alcohol. “I said a LOT of shitty, shitty, bad things that night. I really did. I didn't mean a word of it. Because you were the only one trying to help me past Dean's death. Death... -ths. Deaths. Point is, you tried to help me move on, but I couldn't. I couldn't move on. I... I still don't think I could. But... I mean, for the first month you were there... I was depressed, but I was stable. I had you. You kept me stable.”_

_“Mm, Gabriel.” There were more slurs, but more wispy. “Do you remember the first case we were on? Or rather, the first night we met on. When you were a janitor and I was the cable guy? I mean, yeah, you startled me at first cause hell, I was too scared to try anything with any one. Especially since I was on the road with Dean again and I didn't want him to find out, cause you know, he'd never let me live it down. I think it just pissed him off more to learn I kept something else from him... But um, you know, I still think about you. Especially when I'm all alone... got the hotel room to myself, cause we finished the case and I think Dean and Cas are on some sort of date. Dean's all Big Daddy with Cas' nepha... nimlim... nephilimin... -Baby. Gabriel, I just want to hear your voice, like it used to be...”_

_“Oh Lo-Gabriel... Oh fuck...” There were low keened whimpers. “Oh Gabriel, I loved it when you fucked me deep. Deep and hard and mmnn, fuck... fingers are never enough. I just miss you. In me, on me, under me, fuck, oh fuck...” a low groan later. “Gabriel!”_

_“Gabriel, if you ever talk to me again, remind me to never, ever drink again. Dean is an asshole. Make the loud music stop, please. ”_

_There was a low sigh.“God, Gabe, I don't even know if you can hear me. I don't even care anymore if you can or not because if you are, you're ignoring me. So fine, if you can hear me, I'm going to keep doing this until you call me. Because I haven't changed my number, and I know you're not just going to just forget it. I miss you. I miss you, not just the sex. I miss laying in bed together, and laughing. I really miss laughing. Fuck, I miss smiling. Your jokes were really corny you know, and you're such a dick with that Asia song, but you were always smiling. … Gabe, please. I didn't mean it when I said I didn't love you. I didn't mean it when I said I didn't need you...”_

_“Hey Gabe. Cas is okay. So's Dean. No, we still haven't said yes to your brothers. We're looking at a place where Cas can have his nephilim. I think... Dean and Cas have this thing. This really deep thing that I've never seen before. I mean, I think it started weeks ago. Cause... I've never seen Dean get so worried about anyone else. Not even me. I think he's really taking this baby thing pretty personally. Probably because it is half his-”_

* * *

 

 

Sam's phone buzzed in his hand and he opened the unknown number. “Hello.”

 

“For Heaven, Earth, and Hell's sake, Sam. Stop praying to me every 20 minutes!” Gabriel groaned on the other end.

 

“G-Gabriel.” Sam nearly knocked over his chair as he stood up from the table where he, Castiel and Dean were sitting at the diner table across from him. Castiel had been eying Dean's burger with curiosity for the past few minutes. Both of them stared at Sam as he stood. Sam realized the ruckus he'd made and motioned for both of them to give him some time. Sam walked out of the door for some air and a more private talk.

 

“Yes, please SHUT up. This has been going on for 2 weeks straight.” Gabriel stressed. Sam turned down the side of the building where there were no people.

 

“Please, Gabriel, I just really want to talk to you, please. Please, please...” Sam got in as many words as he could, unsure of Gabriel would hang up on him. “Just 5 minutes, please, it's all I want... I just need to talk to you for 5 minutes...”

 

“You made it pretty clear what you really needed was a demon bitch to coddle your stubborn revenge rampage. And you got what you wanted. I'm NOT helping you on your suicidal adventure to stop Lucifer...”

 

“I don't want to talk to you about the fucking devil.” Sam breathed out sharply and took a deep inhale, wiping his eyes with his sleeves because he was really worked up. “I need to talk to you about us.”

 

“...us,” Gabriel repeated dryly.

 

“Yes, because I need you.”

 

There was an exhausted sigh. “Sam...”

 

“You don't have to help us. You really don't. I won't ask you to, but... but damn it, I want to fix this with you because I screwed up everything. I let my anger take over my life and I hurt you. I said things that I never meant. And when you said you loved me, I should have said I loved you too, because I do. And... and it scares the hell out of me because the last person I loved like this burst into flames...”

 

“Sam, stop.”

 

“Gabriel, please. I don't care if you're an angel, or a trickster, or what ever...”

 

"Well what if I don't love you anymore?" Gabriel's tone was flat, stern. Cold. Sam found it hard to breath. His chest was locked up and tight. He couldn't speak and his eyes burned. "What if I don't need you? What if you're the one who brought on the end of the world and you're getting just what you deserve?" Sam had to try hard but he swallowed the lump in his throat, forcing himself to intake air.

 

"Why... why do you keep saying 'What if'?" Sam countered shakily. It was quiet and then Gabriel sighed. It was long and suffering sounding, but in a slight uptight of dramatic up tic at the end.

 

"Where are you?" Gabriel asked. "I might just pop over to see you cry your heart out." Sam looked around uneasily, seeing a few people walk by the alley.

 

“Housatonic, Massachusetts,” Sam murmured, digging his shoe into the alley grime, head lowered. “In the alley of the Village Diner.”

 

“Really?” Gabriel scoffed over the phone. “You give out info too easily. You know I could kill you with a thought, right?” Sam looked around, up and down the alley, but Gabriel didn't poof over like Castiel did behind him and Dean all the time. He even looked up, to see of Gabriel was on the roof over the diner. It was just gray skies. Sam blinked his eyes and cleared his throat.

 

“Why haven't you?” Sam breathed.

 

“Duh, Lucifer's vessel? The assholes upstairs would only bring you back. And honestly, I don't get a kick out of killing you like I do Dean.” Sam pressed himself against the brick of the other building.

 

“You... knew I was the vessel the whole time,” Sam's voice was soft and there was a long pause on the other side of the line. “The whole time.”

 

“Yes,” his voice was sharp and crisp.

 

“Then why... why did you come onto me in the first place?” Sam swallowed, remembering Gabriel in his janitor's uniform, starting this whole thing because he'd seduced Sam.

 

“Because, I foolishly thought that I could alter your decisions.” Gabriel breathed out. “I thought it didn't have to be this way. I thought, you know what, maybe he just needs someone after his brother dies. Maybe he won't make all the wrong choices. Getting complicated wasn't exactly in the plan.” Sam swallowed, an icy feeling of regret was settling into his bones again.

 

“I'm sorry,” He whispered. “We're trying to stop it, I'm not going to say yes. I'm never going to agree...”

 

“Yes, you will.”

 

The words chilled Sam, freezing his promise.

 

“Sam, please." Gabriel sounded tired. "I know. I know every possible way this ends. You say yes, every single time. I know it. Heaven knows it. Lucy knows it. You know it. The only gamble in the plan is when.”

 

“Is... is that why you won't speak to me?" Sam stood straighter. "Because I'm going to say yes for some unknown reason, and you're just going to let me?”

 

“It's easier.”

 

“Easier than what?” Sam scowled. “Easier than talking to me face to face? God, Dean was right about you...”

 

“It's easier,” Gabriel enunciated, “than seeing you standing there in front of me in a few years and knowing that it's not you looking back.” 

 

Sam went quiet, breathing out the air that was in his lungs. “You mean...”

 

“You know exactly what I mean,” Gabriel said gravely. Sam remembered that everyone assumed he was going to say yes to Lucifer. But Sam, no matter who had left him, couldn't let Lucifer possess him to hurt Dean or anyone else.

 

Sam closed and rubbed his eyes. They were watering again. “I love you-”

 

“Sam, stop it.”

 

“-and I know you still care about me or you wouldn't have called me.” Sam swallowed but there was no protest. “I understand if you can't forgive me for picking Ruby or making bad decisions, even for everything I said... but don't say you can't forgive me for something I haven't even done yet.” He shut his cell phone and shoved both hands into his jeans pockets. He took a few deep breathes, alone in the alley. The only sound in the area now was the traffic and the sound of people. Sam told himself he should have yelled more at Gabriel but... he wasn't sure if he could even forgive himself. How could he expect Gabriel to do it? Sam shuffled to the mouth of the alley, trying to think of something to tell Dean and Castiel about the call. He turned the corner to go back into the diner, but someone grabbed his wrist once he walked past the brick wall and yanked him. Sam jerked around and he straightened, seeing Gabriel leaning against the wall, looking up at Sam with a pensive stare. “Gabriel,” Sam whispered.

 

“You hung up on me after all that time begging me to call?” Gabriel leaned his head forward, raising his brows. “Rude.”

 

“I uh...” Sam's body went lax and he felt his knees go numb. “How long were you standing there?”

 

“As soon as I could,” Gabriel admitted warily.

 

“Gabriel...” Sam breathed.

 

“You're stupid.” Gabriel stated, but there was no malice. “You're all so stupid, fighting something you can't stop.”

 

Sam swallowed. “Can't say we're not trying.” Gabriel eyed him, his grip was unyielding and Sam didn't even try to break away. Gabriel lifted his head a little more and he released Sam. 

 

“I guess I'm stupid too.” Gabriel sighed, shoulders dropping. “And a sentimental fool.” Sam dared to smile lightly.

 

“I love you.” Sam murmured, as though all the times he said it made up for the one time he didn't. Gabriel rolled his head and eyes, looking away from Sam.

 

“I am going to tell you this only because you're stubborn and hard headed.” Gabriel looked at Sam again, sticking his hands in his pockets and leaning more against the brick wall. “Because... there's a way to open Lucifer's cage again.” Sam's head lifted, eyes widening. “The key is on earth. Actually, keys. I know you have one, from the horsemen. But you need all four to open it back up. And how you get Lucifer into it again is your own business.” Sam nodded twice and his hand touched Gabriel's shoulder.

 

“Thank you,” Sam said and Gabriel's hand slipped up, grabbing Sam's collar, dragging him down into a kiss. Sam fell against him, leaning both hands heavily on Gabriel's shoulders, but the angel was sturdy as a boulder, even for being a head shorter. The kiss was deep and hard, part frustration and part longing. It was anything but the welcome pecks and playful kisses Sam remembered from long ago. Even though it was angry, the heat of it left a lasting impression, and stole Sam's breath away.

 

“I'm sending you to your own demise and you're thanking me.” Gabriel breathed against Sam's lips.

 

“Yeah...” Sam breathed back. Gabriel's face scrunched up, and he held Sam tighter and then gave him a little shake.

 

“Don't... screw it up this time.” Gabriel warned and pushed Sam back. Sam stumbled back a few feet, finding Gabriel gone with a wave of his hand. Sam wondered exactly what 'it' was referring to and he looked around, finding people were giving him weird looks. He ducked his head and pulled up his coat collar up, heading back into the diner, where Dean was just forking out the money for the bill. Sam felt a vibration in his pocket, but he steered right towards his brother and Castiel first.

 

Dean took one look at Sam and grimaced. “The hell happened to you?”

 

“Nothing, nothing,” Sam felt his face briefly, finding it hot, probably red. “I just got some news. Let me get my salad to go and...” He looked down at the table, finding two empty plates. “... My salad.” It wasn't where Sam had left it.

 

“Yeah uh... turns out Cas is hungry now.” Dean gestured offhandedly to Castiel, who looked sorrowful for his actions.

 

“I apologize, the hunger has been paining me for hours.” Castiel's head lowered in shame.

 

“It... It's fine.” Sam ran his fingers through his hair. There were too many surprising things going on at the same time. “Just... We can pick up something on the way. I have something to tell you two.”

 

“Boyfriend forgive ya?” Dean raised a brow at Sam and Sam looked away. Sam wasn't sure if it was forgiveness or pity. 

 

“He... he told me about opening Lucifer's cage,” Sam said and they left the diner. Sam explained about the keys as they got into the Impala.

 

The only time Sam got to check his cell phone was back at the motel while Dean was talking very close to Castiel on Dean's bed and Sam couldn't bear to watch them stare at each other any longer. He opened his phone and his heart leapt when he found a text message.

 

Unknown:

>>[PS. Don't pray to me any more when you're masturbating. It's very distracting. - Gabriel]

 

Sam's face flushed and he ran his hands over his face, vowing to never get drunk again.


	20. First Dates

Dean had dragged Castiel along on a food run, leaving Sam to sort the information they found out about the current case they were working on. Castiel was showing more signs of humanity; hunger and sleep. Castiel was indulging in one of those needs as they were parked outside from a local park 'n eat joint. Dean had a to-go bag for Sam in the back seat and Dean watched Castiel eagerly eating his own burger. Dean was part way through his own and watched Castiel instead of the rollerskating waitresses. Dean knew they hadn't talked about anything since Sam was back. There just hadn't been the time or the place. And then over three months had passed without a moment to stop.

 

“It's weird to see you eat,” Dean stated. Castiel chewed thoughtfully and swallowed.

 

“It is... odd,” Castiel agreed. “But I do not have enough grace to uphold my vessel's condition. Human bodies require sustenance.” Castiel looked at his burger with a slight expression of guilt. “It's almost compulsive. To keep functioning I have to eat...” Dean rolled his shoulders in a shrug and took another bite of his own bacon burger; he tucked it into his cheek before he spoke.

 

“Don't feel bad, we all have to.” Dean paused after the slight pained look Castiel gave him. That's right, angels didn't eat. “Well... you don't eat too much.”

 

“I try not to, but it's getting harder.” Castiel sighed. “And sleeping...”

 

“Where have you been sleeping?” Dean asked with creased brows. He'd only witnessed it once and that was weeks ago. Castiel glanced into the back seat of the Impala. “Cas...”

 

“It takes less grace to open the lock than flying in.” Castiel mumbled and took another bite of his burger.

 

“You know... you can come inside the motel.” Dean paused. “We'll find you a spot.”

 

“It's fine, Dean. I didn't want to disturb you.” Castiel was looking out the windshield, avoiding Dean's gaze. Dean stared at Castiel because Castiel was the one that was going through severance, becoming human, loosing his grace...

 

“You can use my bed tonight,” Dean said plainly. Castiel eyed Dean and shook his head.

 

“Dean, you need your rest from hunting,” Castiel said reasonably.

 

“We'll share,” Dean said without thinking, “I mean, you can sleep when we're not there too. Come on, Baby is an amazing runner, but she's not made for a good night's sleep.” Castiel studied Dean, looking more tired than usual.

 

“I suppose I will if you'll allow it,” Castiel concluded, followed by a stretch of silence.

 

“How's Nem doin'?” Dean asked finally and Castiel looked down at his belly, which was doused in crumbs and sesame seeds.

 

“He is stabilized,” Castiel concluded after a moment. “Three more months at most.” Dean looked at Castiel's belly and eased into the corner, between the seat and door to get a better view of the angel.

 

“Not much has changed,” Dean observed and Castiel quirked his head curiously. “I mean, you don't look more pregnant after we did it.” Castiel frowned and Dean rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean.” Castiel looked down at his burger in thoughts and his hands rested in his lap, face turning out the window.

 

“Perhaps it's not noticeable, but it has changed. Nemamiah's entire chemistry has been altered. It is heavier. The grace has something added to it.” Castiel went silent and Dean munched quietly on his remaining burger. Half of Castiel's burger was in his hands still, but Dean remembered that Castiel didn't just eat burgers and fries. He ate Sam's salads and fruits as well. Sam was all too happy to point out what a well balanced meal was supposed to be. But he didn't eat as much as a regular person. Definitely not like a pregnant woman. 

 

Dean crumpled up the wrapper of his burger and tossed it into the bag. It wasn't like he hadn't thought of talking to Castiel about all of this, but it was uncomfortable and mushy. Dean wasn't sure if Castiel even wanted to do it again; then he wondered if Castiel even knew how to ask. He thought back to future Castiel, who was super smooth and knew what he wanted. It was hard to believe either Castiel could be one in the same. It was frightening how 5 years could turn a stiff angel of Heaven into an orgy prone druggie. An orgy prone druggie that really should not have been THAT good in bed.

 

“Gabriel is right,” Castiel said slowly, looking at Dean.

 

“'Bout what?” Dean was pulled from his thoughts; mostly impure ones.

 

“That there's a soul here.” Castiel ran his palm over his belly. “Not just grace. There's no doubt that Nemamiah is yours as well.” There was a softness to the statement; it wasn't accusing at all. Dean sat up straighter and took in a deep breath, staring at Castiel. Castiel gave him a soft smile and all those previous thoughts washed away. 

 

It sort of hit Dean then; Nemamiah was part his. And Castiel was okay with that. Dean swallowed; shit, he was going to be a dad. An actual dad. Not like the Ben-scare; that wasn't really a scare. More like the Lisa-disappointment. Because yeah, he wanted that. He wanted that apple-pie life sometimes. It was impossible, he knew, but he did wonder sometimes, about what he was leaving behind. Especially during the Apocalypse. 

 

Castiel was back to consuming his burger in the silence and Dean leaned over, taking the hand that was rested over the belly. He grasped it and pressed it into the soft worn leather of the seats. Castiel looked at their hands, swallowing what he had bitten. Dean smiled a little, mostly because Castiel had ketchup on his lower lip and partly because he really was happy. 

 

“Y'know... I don't regret what we did,” Dean said and a few lines of stress eased from Castiel's face and the angel smiled.

 

“Neither do I,” Castiel admitted warmly. It was nice moment and Castiel's thumb pressed against Dean's. The moment was never quite long enough, Dean felt. Castiel glanced to the backseat, seeing the purchased doggy bag. “Sam will be hungry.” Dean's hand slid away from Castiel's, reminded that his brother was back at the motel.

 

“Right. Should probably feed him, I guess.” Dean turned the Impala's ignition on. Castiel polished off his burger and he cleaned the condiment from his face with his thumb. He simply did not 'grace' it away and Dean noticed that more than he usually would have. 


	21. Kodak Moments

Sam rubbed his eyes as he heard the Impala's distinct engine hum pull up next to the motel door. He closed his laptop, effectively done with research for the night. He was tired and hungry. He just hoped their current case was as simple as it looked; a simple salt and burn. Of course the Winchester's definition of simple varied greatly.

 

"Food delivery." Dean sang as he opened the door, plastic bag in hand and Castiel was following him in. Dean plopped the Styrofoam container into Sam's outstretched hands and Castiel shut the door after them. There was a upbeat tone from Sam's phone and Sam picked it up to check it as he opened his container. It was a text from Gabriel; And his phone had him properly labeled now. Gabriel had sent him a snide remark about Dean and Castiel going on a date and Sam could not deny that it looked that way. After all, Dean and Castiel had already consumed their food and the TV was turned on to Dr. Sexy MD; apparently Gabriel's TV Land had not spoiled Dean's obsession for the show. Sam tapped the keys on his cell.

 

Sam: 

<<[Would you consider Dr. Sexy an after date program?]

 

Gabriel: 

>>[Psh, of course.]

>>[And if it's the correct episode, it could very well lead to some heavy petting]

 

Sam grimaced and hoped that wasn't the case. 

 

Sam: 

<<[I hope not. I don't want to see that.]

 

"Who the hell are you texting?" Dean asked from his bed with the remote in hand. Castiel had taken up a chair that angled towards the TV better but was currently giving Sam a curious look as well.

 

"Just... Gabriel." Sam turned his cell to mute. It wasn't like he'd seen Gabriel since the diner. It was sort of casual talk; not something they'd done before over the phone. It was odd to be in contact with Gabriel and not be able to look at him. Gabriel seemed to be an avid texter though.

 

"He's texting you a conversation?" Dean was giving Sam a look of raised brows and a half curled upper lip, "Kind of douchy, don't you think." Sam's face flushed in annoyance. He would not mention that he and Jess had done it between classes. 

 

"Shut up and watch your doctor crush on TV," Sam retaliated and Dean shot him back a glare. Sam continued his conversation which hovered around Dean and Gabriel's obsession with Dr. Sexy; which concluded with the fact that Gabriel liked the man's sexy body and long hair which shouldn't have surprised Sam all that much. Sam ate his dinner, which was the Caesar salad he'd asked for and once it was late enough he crawled into bed, sending Gabriel one last good night text.

 

The TV was turned off and Dean hopped into bed after getting prepped for the night. Dean had his hand on the lamp knob but looked to Castiel, who had moved to the table where there was a smaller lamp. Castiel had one of their mythology books about Norse gods open and held in one hand as he scanned the history through the eyes of humans. 

 

"Gonna sleep, Cas?" Dean asked and Sam watched them tiredly. They didn't have any other furniture in that motel room but the chairs and beds.

 

"I'm not yet tired, Dean." Castiel took in a breath and stifled a potential yawn. "You need your rest to hunt the ghost tomorrow." Dean hesitated but the lamp clicked off and there was only the street lights from outside and 

Castiel's little lamp, which didn't stop Sam from dozing off.

 

However, Sam awoke with movement in the room and he resisted stretching when he saw Dean was out of bed and coming back from the bathroom. But instead of going straight to bed, Dean walked over to Castiel, who's face was buried in his curled arm on the table and he used the book as a pillow. Dean's hand rubbed Castiel's arm, Castiel's body giving a surprised jerk awake and Dean shushed him quietly, reaching over to turn off the lamp light.

 

"Dean," Castiel's low, sleep filled voice acknowledged the hunter.

 

"Get your ass over to the bed. You can't say you're not tired now," Dean muttered and Sam watched their outlines. Dean pulled Castiel up, supporting his arm and guiding the weary angel to the bed. Castiel didn't protest, instead, he ended up taking Dean's warm spot and Dean sat on the other side of the bed. 

 

"I wanted to watch over you." Castiel sighed as he sank into the pillows. All Sam could see now was Castiel's trench coat back. It wasn't like Castiel had any clothes to change into. Dean laid down on the other side of the bed and covers were maneuvered over both of them.

 

"Yeah, I know, buddy," Dean said quietly. "Get some sleep." Castiel hummed and Sam listened for any more signs of consciousness but there was none. 

 

Sam rolled over to continue sleeping, somewhat reminded of his own space in the bed next to him. It wasn't as though Gabriel had dove willingly back into bed, and that wasn't exactly what Sam was looking for either. The casual texting was nice, it kept the communication open, but it seemed a mediating point; as though Gabriel himself was trying to figure out how much he wanted from this; what ever was left of what they had. The kiss from earlier reminded him of the heat they'd once had, but there had been no appearance or words of security for something more. It was an odd, suspended moment, as though on the brink of a decision. Sam just hoped it wasn't another ending, and that he didn't do something stupid that would drive Gabriel off again. 

 

Sam glanced back at the other bed. Dean seemed genuinely okay with everything that was happening with Castiel. Happy even. He wasn't sure if Castiel and his brother were actually an item or what. But there was something there. Sam took a deep breath and closed his eyes, willing himself not to think about it too much. They had to hunt tomorrow.

 

After a few more hours sleep, Sam was the first to wake up. He stretched and looked to Dean's bed, where he found Castiel had rolled over and his head was not on the pillow he'd first laid it upon. There was an arm wrapped around Castiel's waist, the hand pressing against the round belly. Sam slowly got up to get a better look and he slowly unplugged his phone from the charger. Dean's other arm was under Castiel's neck, supporting most of his head up and Dean's face was pressed into the nape of Castiel's back, buried in the trench coat and one foot was between Castiel's ankles. The only reason Sam could tell about the feet was because one of them or maybe both of them had kicked off the blankets. 

 

Sam opened his phone and pinched his tongue between his lips as he took a Kodak moment photo of them and saved it immediately on his way to the bathroom. He also sent it to Gabriel, mentioning that there was no heavy petting, but that it looked pretty successful.

 

Gabriel:

>>[Seriously, who sleeps in all of their clothes?]

 

Sam smiled and texted once more before he took his shower.

 

Sam:

<<[Really tired humans.]

 

Gabriel:

>>[Mm, Touche`.]


	22. Paternity Pants

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Set after 5.13, The Song Remains The Same)

"Cas, you don't have to wear a suit every day." Dean breathed out impatiently. "You CAN wear t-shirts and jeans." Castiel looked discontentedly at the t-shirt in his hand, stretching the dark fabric.

 

"It just... seems so unfeasible," Castiel murmured, looking back to the clean pressed packaged suit shirts and ties only a few rows of clothes away.

 

"They're freaking expensive." Dean already had a new duffel bag in hand; stuffed with toothbrush, toothpaste, soap, razor, etc. Normal human supplies. A manual maintenance kit for graceless angels. Castiel had next to nill grace left thanks to zapping back from the past after Sam and Dean saved their parents from Anna. Or rather, when Michael roasted Anna with fire; the image still didn't settle in Dean's gut. Castiel was attempting to ration his last reserves for an emergency; so he said. Thus normal human functions were starting up full force. For example, Castiel was learning to sleep, eat, shower, and go to the bathroom. The trench coat and suit were not as springtime fresh as they had been a week ago. "Basics, Cas. Basics." Castiel sighed, tired. Castiel folded and placed the t-shirt back on the stack. It must have been ingrained in angels that they had to wear suits, Dean decided. He'd had no idea Castiel would be so picky with simple clothing. "Pick what you like, just nothing fancy. It's only going to get ripped later. And you can't just magic it back together again."

 

Sam had escaped them to restock the Impala with salt and water and was probably already listening to terrible music on the radio as he waited for them. Dean was really anxious to get back on the road instead of showing Castiel how to be human. He did not sign up for this. Sure it had its perks, like waking up with a warm body next to his with the warm vibration of Nemamiah against his hand. It was also nice to have someone not scoff at him when he started jamming and singing to his rock on the long, quiet drive. It was also a bit endearing to see Castiel try new foods. But teaching Castiel how to shave had been an adventure and a half, and reminding Castiel that he needed to brush his teeth was just not something Dean felt he should have to do. Sure, he'd done it with Sam, but Sam was a baby and a kid when that was happening. Castiel was a full grown man/angel. It just made him think 'Baby in a trench coat'.

 

"This." Castiel finally emerged and unfurled a sample shirt and pants. Dean looked up from the music graphic shirts and stared at the loose blue shirt and a pair of green yoga pants. They looked damn similar to what Dean had seen future Castiel wearing. Castiel lifted his head, "They're durable, loose fitted, and around the average price of your own clothes selections." Dean couldn't speak a moment but he realized Castiel was awaiting his approval.

 

"Uh, yeah, sure." Dean hesitated. "Do they fit?" Castiel blinked.

 

"I'm not sure," Castiel said thoughtfully and Dean rolled his eyes and directed Castiel to the fitting rooms. 

 

"Just try them on," Dean said and closed Castiel in one of the rooms; leaving Castiel to his own devices. Dean folded his arms and leaned against the flimsy walls. Dean waited and gave the older sales woman an awkward smile. Guys just didn't shop together; what made it more awkward was that Castiel was a full grown man needing help with the basic tasks. And he was taking forever with trying on the clothes. Dean knocked on the door after 5 minutes white the woman had walked away. "Cas, what's the hold up?"

 

"Nothing," Castiel replied after a moment and Dean raised a brow. He gave it another few seconds before he tried the knob. Of course Castiel didn't think to lock the door; angels normally did that with their mojo. And it wasn't as though he hadn't seen Castiel naked before. He peered in and Castiel looked up from the full length mirror. He had the loose legged yoga pants on and they were a tight fit around the belly. His hair was still a mess from the morning shower and there was a thin layer of scruff on his jaw; because Castiel disliked shaving. He'd cut himself pretty bad the first time. Castiel went still, one arm around his belly, the other rested on his own shoulder. Dean raised a brow and stepped in, closing the door after himself.

 

"Well..." Dean walked over to him and he shrugged awkwardly. "They fit?"

 

"Mm, yes." Castiel looked back to the mirror, resting his chin back on his knuckles and his thumb moved down his stomach. Dean let out a slow breath and stood behind Castiel. 

 

"Try on the shirt yet?" Dean asked and Castiel nodded. Dean's hand rested on Castiel's hip, where he felt where the belly started stretching, "What ya looking at then?"

 

"My vessel," Castiel said simply with a soft breath, he moved his arms, looking at his remaining grace. "There's nearly a week left in severance." Dean blinked, realizing how fast the past few months had flown.

 

"Yeah..." Dean realized they were in February again. A year ago, Castiel was still a full fledged angel, following orders in heaven; angel pregnant. A lot had happened within the year. "Are you... feeling okay?" Castiel sighed.

 

"Not really." Castiel met Dean's eyes in the mirror. "If I survive the split, I will be be fully condemned to humanity." Dean's hand slid around, fingers splaying out on the warm flesh that tingled his fingers.

 

"You'll survive." Dean promised, though he couldn't tell at the moment if that eased Castiel's concern or fueled it. "And being human ain't so bad." Castiel scoffed his opinion. "And you'll have Nem." the soft smile graced Castiel's mouth, the one that Dean was starting to like more and more. 

 

“Dean.” Castiel tilted his head back after a moment of warm silence. Dean hummed, showing he was listening, even though he was focusing on Castiel's belly in the reflection. Castiel took a moment to wet his lips with his tongue. “I want you to kiss me.” Dean blinked up at him in the mirror and Castiel pursed his lips because Dean didn't react right away. “I really enjoyed it, and you haven't since we had intercourse.” Dean took a deep breath.

 

“There's been a lot going on,” Dean said slowly. “We haven't exactly...” He caught Castiel's eyes in the mirror again and he wasn't sure why he was making excuses. Yeah, Sam was usually there and kissing Castiel in front of his brother just seemed weird when ever he thought about it. And for the record, Castiel didn't know how to act like he wanted to be kissed and hadn't kissed him either. Dean would have to work on that. 

 

Dean turned Castiel’s head and caught his lips with his. Castiel's mouth was soft in return, nothing like the first kiss. Right off the bat it was warm and comfortable. Dean was used to the heat of sex between kisses; hard and fast. But this was on a separate level. This one made him pull Castiel closer; made him want to keep the angel right there in his arms. Castiel's hands tightened against Deans, also squeezing closer into the warmth. A content sigh left Castiel as they slowly parted, smile on his face, eyes focusing on Dean. Yeah, Dean realized, he could get used to that.

 

“You know, I don't have to be the one to start it,” Dean pointed out. “You can kiss me.”

 

Castiel's fingers laced with Dean's fingers, which was on his shoulder. “You would allow it?”

 

Dean leaned his chin on Castiel's shoulder, feeling Nemamiah reverberate through Castiel's flesh against his palm. “Just, try to do it in private. You know, when Sam isn't around.” Castiel nodded, his fingers running over Dean's knuckles, content with their connection. It felt right.

 

“I suppose I'll need more than one set of clothes,” Castiel mused after a moment of looking back in the mirror.

 

“Yeah.” Dean shrugged. “Hey, how did your suit fit with that gut?”

 

“I used my grace to expand the fabric.” Castiel explained. “I... suppose I'll need normal clothes for when my flesh contracts again.”

 

“Do you even know what your waist size was?” Dean raised a brow and Castiel shook his head. Dean frowned. “We'll have to get you something." Dean's hand slid down to tug at the loose green pants. "These pants look stupid on you.” Castiel's brow crinkled.

 

“They're comfortable,” Castiel defended.

 

“No doubt, but they really scream maternity pants.”

 

“I found them in the male's section. Thus they are paternity pants.” Castiel lifted his head, almost proudly and Dean couldn't help but smile.

 

“Sure, fine, paternity pants. What ever you like.”

 

Castiel looked in the mirror, tilting his head slightly and he looked over at Dean on his shoulder and kissed the side of Dean's temple and leaned in more against Dean. Dean only smiled a bit, but regretfully he pulled back, though not before leaving a kiss on Castiel's nape.

 

“Come on, let's finish up so we can grab some grub.” Dean picked up the shirt and Castiel's pants. He paused and checked the pants tag, wondering if Castiel left the tag alone, because it should have still had the original size.

 

Castiel's nose crinkled and he pushed down the yoga pants, revealing his briefs. “I do not wish to hold bug larvae, Dean.” Dean rolled his eyes and and turned, pausing to take in Castiel's body. He figured he should have been less okay with Castiel being good looking full and pregnant, but hell, there was something about it that just thrilled, amazed, and awed him.

 

“Um, I meant food.” Dean explained, handing Castiel's pants to him and Dean made note that Castiel needed more underwear... which sort of put other dirty possibilities in his mind. “Not bugs.” Castiel dressed and folded the clothes they were going to purchase. Dean cleared his throat and opened the changing room door; again, eager to get out of the store. 


	23. Due Date

Castiel awoke from a dream. Dreams were still new to him. They were somewhat familiar. He'd visited many humans' dreams since coming to stop the apocalypse; mainly Dean's. He often liked Dean's dreams, when they were not of Hell. His own he found very hard to hold on to once consciousness gripped him. They often left a taste of a local park that he thought Dean and he had talked at, but then it disappeared, leaving him with an after taste of loss.

 

Castiel rolled over, finding Dean's warmth in the middle of the night. The room was all shadows. Dean mumbled something incoherent, even as Castiel stole a kiss from the corner of his mouth. Castiel's vision was dictated by the light now, so he could only see remembered shallows of Dean's face.

 

Castiel wondered why he was wake. 

 

He listened and glanced over his shoulder at Sam, who was illuminated better by the street light from the window. Castiel sat up, only dressed in his new pants and shirt. His rubbed his eyes before scanning the room. It was so quiet. He scratched his fingers through his own hair and started rubbing a kink from his neck. Some motel beds were just so uncomfortable. Castiel huffed out a quiet breath, wondering if humans thought of these sorts of things.

 

Castiel ran a hand down his stomach, a habit he didn't even pay any attention to anymore. But... He noticed it then. He ran his fingers back up the flesh, where it was still hard. Where he knew from previous months that there was a nephilim sleeping. 

 

Silence.

 

Castiel listened. He listened so hard he heard his own heartbeat in his ears, but there was no more hum. Castiel took a deep breath and closed his eyes, listening for the hum of consciousness that he'd been sharing for over a year. It was as though someone had turned off the cracking radio and there was nothing but empty silence.

 

Castiel slowly eased his way back onto the bed on his side and he swallowed, wanting to ignore his shaky arms. 17 months had passed so quickly. He knew it would arrive one day, but not this soon. If he were unfallen, he would have already returned to Heaven. There was no such option for him now. Castiel pressed his face into Dean's shoulder and tucked his arm under Dean's, which seemed so warm and tightened reflexively with the movement.

 

"Mm, Cas?" Dean found consciousness but he didn't sound completely committed to it.

 

"Sorry if I disturbed you," Castiel murmured, pressing closer. He didn't want to worry Dean about it now. He wanted to at least wait until the sun came up before he had to move from this. Dean may have been fully confident in their plan, but Castiel knew the angels that would come for him; he did not think they had a very good chance at survival. "Can you hold me tighter?"

 

Dean's arms complied before Dean could even formulate a thought. "Everything alright?"

 

"Mm... Bad dream," Castiel lied, wanting the moment to be drawn out without the stress of his split making Dean's body tense. Dean's hand rubbed his spine and it loosened the knots in Castiel's belly.

 

"Yeah, those suck," Dean replied without much thought and Castiel sighed into the warmth, wanting to memorize everything. Castiel remembered nights where Dean had woken up from nightmares; drenched in sweat and body ridged with horror. Dean never wanted to talk about them and Castiel never asked him to. And since they started sharing a bed and sleep cycle, they continued. But with time, they dissipated and most nights were relatively unbroken.

 

Dean fell back asleep that night, but Castiel did not. He watched the sun rise. He watched Sam and Dean take practiced steps to get ready for the day. Washing, dressing, and morning habits were unthought of. Castiel watched Dean walk around the motel room, talking to Bobby and at the same time, taking bites of his breakfast burrito whilst also searching for a clean shirt. Castiel was still extra mindful in the bathroom and he carefully shaved; not because he liked to, but he wanted something to distract himself and for some reason that was easier with a bade in his hand.

 

The brothers had everything packed to go before Castiel was even finished dressing.

 

"Cas, come on." Dean was knocking on the bathroom door as he spoke loud enough to hear. "We got a case. People are EATING each other." Castiel pulled on his overcoat over his newer clothes, the ones Dean often expressed his dislike for. Castiel opened the door, finding Dean waiting for him, shaking a take-out bag at him. "You take forever, you know. Come on, you can eat on the run." He was also handed a paper cup of coffee and Castiel blinked at them both. He had not eaten for hours, but he was anything but hungry. He felt as though he would be nauseous if he even put his nose close to the items, thus he held them away from him.

 

"Dean." Castiel gave the hunter a forlorn look, and Dean took the bag back, taking out the sandwich that was wrapped in paper.

 

"What, you liked eggs and sausage last time we got it." Dean waved it in front of Castiel, as if trying to tempt him. "Extra cheesy. Like Sam." Castiel highly doubted Sam was a dairy product.

 

"Dean." Castiel repeated more sternly and let the coffee warm his cold hands if nothing else. He took a deep breath. It was easier looking at the plastic top than Dean. "I fear my split is around the corner. I no longer hear Nemamiah." He glanced up at Dean, seeing he finally had the hunter's full attention

 

“Wait, now?” Dean strained, and he dropped the sandwich back into the bag, stepping closer to Castiel, "Right now? This is it? You're not... you know, having labor pains?"

 

"The split is not long." Castiel was all but ignoring the human birthing vocabulary and normal human procedure. There was no weening Dean from it. "There is a silence, and it is a sign." Castiel rested the coffee against his belly. Still no vibrations. "The split will happen today, or tomorrow." Dean held his head.

 

"People are eating each other." Dean groaned and seemed torn. Castiel swallowed uncomfortably.

 

"I know." Castiel breathed out slowly and finally placed the coffee on the table, knitting his fingers together, "You... should go. People are dying." Dean dropped the food on the table and gripped Castiel's shoulder with a pressure that was reassuring.

 

"Cas, I told you I'm not leaving you alone in this." Dean caught Castiel's eyes.

 

"But your case..." Castiel frowned and Dean still looked torn.

 

"Yeah I know..." Dean looked to the door, where Sam was just coming in from the Impala. "Sam, we got a situation here." Sam's brows slowly rose.

 

"Besides mutual cannibalism?" Sam asked and Dean gestured to Cas.

 

"Cas is going to pop," Dean summarized. "And we need to get to the spot..." Dean gestured to the door, "But people are EATING each other." Sam paused, looking at Castiel who looked back uncertainly. Castiel wasn't exactly sure what Dean's fixation on people eating each other was; though it was bizarre that humans were eating humans instead of monsters eating humans. But Castiel knew of several tribes of human culture that still ritualized cannibalism. Sam held up a hand, having a solution.

 

"Look, you two go." Sam had heard them discuss their plan several times. "I'll go to Indiana and find out what's going on. I can call Bobby or Gabriel if things get hairy, and you can come once the... once Nemamiah is split." 

 

Dean didn't looked pleased with that idea either. "Sam..."

 

"Dean, I can handle it," Sam carried on. "I can handle myself for a few days. Point is, Cas is going to have a nephilim whether we like it or not. We can all go, or I can check out the situation. I can call Gabriel." Dean folded his arms, giving Sam a sour look.

 

"Are you sure he'd help?" Dean asked warily since Gabriel was doing very little besides distracting Sam on cases and they had not found one horseman since War. How were they supposed to find them all if the archangel didn't help them out?

 

"Yes," Sam said quickly. "Just all I need is a car and I'll load up. If it's something that bad, I'll call Bobby so he can send back up." Dean looked at Sam for the longest time, then back to Castiel, then slowly down to the belly that had been accompanying them this whole time. Dean sighed in defeat, unable to completely win without possibly more people dying. But being torn from Sam also obviously pained Dean.

 

“You just watch your ass in case feather-head gets a yellow back,” Dean said finally, looking at Sam.

 

“I'll be fine, Dean,” Sam returned, grabbing his last bag and heading out to the Impala.

 

Castiel frowned a bit. He wasn't sure how reliable Gabriel was, but if nothing else, he was powerful. And if Sam and Gabriel had actually reconciled, then perhaps Gabriel would help. To have an archangel on the side of humanity could greatly increase their rate of survival.

 

Dean took a deep breath and he clasped a hand on Castiel's shoulder. "Alright... ready or not. Right?" Castiel nodded, giving Dean a tired smile and his hand rested atop Dean's for a brief moment before they headed out to the Impala. 

 

His split could be counted by the hours now, and also, so could be his death and the death of his child. Castiel tried to let Dean's warm smile and loud singing on the trip tell him otherwise.

 

* * *

 

 

Dean parked Baby in front of the old barn several hours from last seeing Sam. Then Dean was out, checking all the symbols he'd laid out over a month ago when they'd scoped the place out. He managed to copy Ruby's angel hex bags okay; hopefully it would buy them that 5 minutes. The barn was dark and full of moldy hay. It wasn't liveable, but it would do and no one would miss it if an angel popped up there. Castiel followed Dean in and he sat on a hay bail, holding his head in both hands. Dean stood close to him, touching Castiel's shoulder simply with his finger tips.

 

“Hey.” Dean said and Castiel looked up at him. Castiel hadn't slept the whole 8 hour drive, even though it was 4 in the morning when they'd arrived. Frankly, neither had Dean, but Dean had been driving, he was kinda required to be awake. Castiel was still getting use to sleeping period, and usually only functioned well on 8 hours compared to Dean's 4. “How you holding up?”

 

“Terribly.” Castiel breathed heavily and Dean sat next to him on the hay bail, sliding an arm around Castiel's shoulders, causing Castiel to look up.

 

“Want to go over the plan again?” Dean asked and Castiel nodded, his hands twisted in his own trench coat. “Okay, we camp out here until your split. I'll make a few angel banishing symbols for just in case. We'll hunker down, bull shit a bit until it happens. I'll dive behind the hay bales so my eyes don't get burnt out. Once you let Nem know where to go, I'll get you into Baby and we'll pick him up in the town square, and then we're home free. Even if it's 5 minutes, it's enough. Everything-” 

 

Castiel pressed his lips to Dean's in a firm kiss. Dean's arm curled tighter around Castiel's shoulders; the kiss was brief but needed. Castiel slowly pulled back, fear etched into his face for what felt like the first time. Dean took a deep breath and leaned in again, pressing his forehead to Castiel's and giving him a softer, lingering kiss. One that would let Castiel know he wasn't going anywhere.

 

“You're both going to be fine.” Dean promised and Castiel took a deep breath, closing his eyes. Dean embraced Castiel against him and the angel huddled closer, hands fisted into his coat over his silent grace.

 


	24. Stupid Cupid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Takes place during 5.14 My Bloody Valentine)

Gabriel got a curious call on Valentines Day. He and Sam had talked occasionally since their encounter in the alley. He was weary about helping the hunter again after sticking his neck out so far the first time. He wanted to sit on the side lines and see which path Sam would pick, but he figured the least he could do was pick up on the extra special day. He materialized his cell phone to answer the call. “Hello? Are you thinking about me on this hallmark day of love and candy? I'm touched, Sam.” He scratched the ear of the Jack Russel Terrier that he affectionately called Max.

 

“Gabriel,” Sam's voice sounded labored, “I need your help.” Gabriel rolled his eyes.

 

“Well I'm not surprised.” Gabriel sighed, expecting Sam to ask him one of these days. “I knew I'd hear it eventually. 'Help us fight Lucifer. Help us to defeat him. Help hold my hand. Help'-”

 

“Damn it, Gabe.” Sam sounded in pain and the archangel politely ceased his mocking for a moment. “I'm alone on a case and I need... the need for demon blood is back, and I don't know why...”

 

Gabriel dropped his playful thoughts, frowning. “Where's the expecting couple?”

 

Sam _whined_ , for heaven's sake... “Cas is going to split soon and Dean wouldn't leave him.” 

 

“Fuck...” Gabriel murmured and rubbed his temples. “What is with you Winchesters and the worst timing in the world?” It was rhetorical but Max barked anyway. “Excuses, excuses. Where are you?”

 

“Jasper, Indiana,” Sam rasped. “Um... Motel 6, room 109.” Gabriel hung up and shooed Max away before he snapped his fingers, landing feet first in a fairly lavish motel room. Gabriel picked up the card on the table and smirked a little.

 

“Valentines Day Suite, huh?” Gabriel nodded his approval. “Not bad.” He looked around, seeing the bathroom door closed. “Sam?” He tossed the cardboard back onto the table.

 

“I'm here.” The echo came from inside and Gabriel checked the knob, finding it locked.

 

“A little counter productive?” Gabriel waved a finger and it unlocked for him. He opened the door, finding Sam's large frame squeezed under the bathroom sink looking pathetic and shaky. Pretty much like Max when he'd found the pup. Gabriel approached him the same; He closed the door, moving slowly, feeling as though harsh movements would startle him. “A little under the weather?” Sam swallowed, his hands hugging his arms, not moving towards the angel.

 

“I haven't been this bad in months...” Sam looked away, half wedged under the toilet, “I don't want to taste it again, I don't...”

 

“I get it, I get it.” Gabriel lowered the toilet seat and sat upon it, petting Sam's hair and Sam pressed his forehead into Gabriel's thigh. Gabriel swallowed, for some reason, finding his own mouth parched. That was... odd, because he'd never actually craved anything. Candy eating was a habit from countless years of being a trickster. And admittedly, the taste and textures were pleasurable; like sex and having aliens slow dance with traumatized frat boys. But he was craving, strangely, carbonized soft drinks. Specifically of the Pepsi variety. “Got any clues so far?” Sam took a deep breath, eyes closed.

 

“I... I found a demon carrying a briefcase. It... had a really bright light in it when I opened it.” Sam took a moment to swallow air. “Then is disappeared.”

 

“A bright light.” Gabriel pondered aloud and Sam twitched, one of his hands gripping Gabriel's knee.

 

“Some of the victims had Enochian symbols on their hearts,” Sam stressed. “But I don't know what demons and angels are doing together on this...”

 

They both stopped when the motel door opened and Sam stared wide eyed at the closed bathroom door. Gabriel went still and waited. Inevitably the door opened and two demons stood there, focusing on Sam before they noticed Gabriel. They weren't impressed by him, but then again, he was still under witness protection.

 

"Aw, look at the little Winchester and guest." The woman cooed. Gabriel felt Sam tense next to him before the demon even spoke. It was like waving a steak in front of a starved tiger and Sam's hand was white with strain.

 

“Great, roaches in a motel.” Gabriel sucked air through his teeth and stood up. He couldn't remember the last time he'd vanquished some demons. Unfortunately, Sam stood as well, eyes dilating hungrily.

 

The male demon advanced first and Sam moved forward but that was as far as either of them would get. Gabriel shot out a hand, flinging Sam into the shower and the other hand flew out to knock the male demon into the female demon. He was not allowing Sam to go down that road again. Gabriel jumped out of the bathroom and the door slammed shut as Sam was gaining his senses. Gabriel knew Sam could handle a little rough treatment. Then, for added security, Gabriel pushed the wardrobe in front of the door with a small push. There was banging at the door; Sam wanting to get out for demon blood.

 

It was safe to say that the demons got whiff of what they were dealing with and darted for the door, but with a snap, the door was shut. Gabriel popped behind the female and grabbed her head, purifying the demon from the vessel. Smoke started pouring out of the male and Gabriel grabbed the man's face, sending it right back into the body. Yeah, he hadn't done this for a while, but it was like riding a bike.

 

“Not done with you yet,” Gabriel said as the demon clawed at his arm, trying to yell. Gabriel knew he couldn't let either demon go, it would blow his cover. He also needed information.

 

“Gabriel, let me out!” Sam was still desperate and the demon's eyes widened at his name. Gabriel sighed and focused on the demon. Yup, Sam was going to blow his cover.

 

“Alright, time to spill the beans, black eyes,” Gabriel spoke sweetly. “What's going on in this town?” He wrapped his fingers around the demon's throat, enough for him to talk.

 

“Fuck off, feather breath.” The demon snapped and Gabriel nodded his head from side to side, thinking a moment.

 

“You know, I'd admire your spunk, if it wasn't so stupid at the moment.” Gabriel smiled cheerfully. “Or I could turn you into something, like a rabbit, and skin you. And then heal you up and do it again.” the demon snarled at him.

 

“I've seen worse done in hell.” He scoffed and Gabriel sighed.

 

“Well I could resort to holly water, but that's just so unoriginal.” Gabriel snapped his fingers and a water bottle dropped into his free hand. He glanced at the demon. “And yes, you're going to die, but do you want it quick or slow?” The demon resisted, the black smoke trying to leave the throat but Gabriel was not allowing it. Gabriel popped open the lid and squirted the demon down and the skin started burning and the demon, screaming. “I could dump you in an ocean of holly water for hours...”

 

“Famine!” the demon screamed. “Famine the horseman!” Gabriel pouted.

 

“Damn, I was going to get creative too.” Gabriel set the demon's insides alight and then snapped his fingers, the bodies disappearing. He dropped them into a pit where there was some flesh eating bugs in Africa. Feed the hungry and all that. Gabriel turned to the bathroom door, where there was less noise and Gabriel popped back into the bathroom, finding Sam wide eyed and back against the door, looking frazzled on the floor. Gabriel sighed. To let Sam out in this condition was not even feasible. Gabriel was going to have to do something about this. Shit. So much for staying out of it. Sam looked up at Gabriel with those watery eyes.

 

“I... I'm sorry, I was going to...” Sam's hand buried in his hair, realizing how out of control he was. Gabriel knelt next to Sam, looking him in the eye.

 

“I hope you know how lucky you are that you're damn cute.” Gabriel touched Sam's forehead and slid his arm around Sam's head as the man went limp, fast asleep. He lowered Sam to the tiles, finding all the stress drain away from the hunter's face. “Because if I get my cover blow by you, I can't be a simple Trickster any more. Then I may as well join your little club.” He pressed his lips to Sam's noggin and smiled. “You should have listened to me in the first place. No demon blood for you mister.” He looked at Sam for a moment and flew himself back out of the room, snapping his fingers to make the hotel room demon proof. He decided to go find this horseman... after he found a Pepsi Max.


	25. Talk It Over in Bed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Mood music: Can't We Talk it Over in Bed – Olivia Newton-John)

Sam awoke to a mild headache as he came to awareness. He looked up at the ceiling to his motel room and found himself in his soft bed. He pressed his fingers to his temple and closed his eyes for a moment. He took a deep breath, the hunger for demon blood dissipated to it's normal throb in the back of his head. It was always there, but it was nothing like how starving he was when he was when he heard it pumping though some poor humans' veins. He opened his eyes again, realizing there was another weight on the bed. He looked to his left, where Gabriel was laying next to him, on his elbows and belly; sipping from a bottle of soda. The archangel smiled at him cheekily.

 

“Feeling better?” Gabriel asked and Sam propped himself up on his elbows, staring at Gabriel.

 

“Did you...” Sam ran his hand down his face and looked around, seeing no demons dead in the room, “What happened?”

 

“Famine, horseman number two, is struck off your to do list.” Gabriel held up two fingers. “You can thank and worship me now.” Sam's lips parted and chest swelling; there were no words he could summon. “Come on, sing me praises. I took on a big-bad and prevented you from diving head first off the deep-” Sam sat up and leaned over to press his lips to Gabriel's; deep and grateful. Gabriel lost his remaining words, but he didn't go searching for them. Sam cupped Gabriel's neck and jaw, feeling the sweet twinge of Pepsi and the firm mouth of the archangel back against his. Sam breathed in deeply before he broke it off. They hadn't kissed in so long... “That's a nice start.” Gabriel said with a softer smile and he scooted himself into a sitting position.

 

“Thank you.” Sam breathed in deeply, his arms curling around Gabriel's neck, hugging him close. “For everything.” The smile that tugged at Gabriel's lips was more genuine than boastful and the arm that wrapped around Sam's waist was comforting in its strength. Sam pressed his nose into Gabriel's neck. It was familiar and warm there. He heard the snap of fingers, the drink having disappeared and Gabriel's hand pet Sam's spine, pressing his temple against Sam's hair. Sam swallowed dryly. “I should have listened to you.” Sam said softly, remembering Ruby; remembering Gabriel cautioned him about seeking revenge and letting people go.

 

“Yep.” Gabriel nodded in agreement.

 

“I...” Sam's mouth opened but Gabriel touched his fingers to Sam's lips.

 

“For the love of Dad, don't start apologizing again. I heard enough of it earlier.” Gabriel patted Sam's back and Sam finally leaned back so that they could see each other. “I might be thinking about giving you another go. As long as you don't try to pull something incredibly stupid again.” Sam shrugged, giving a nervous smile.

 

“I can't promise that...” Sam confessed and Gabriel rolled his eyes.

 

“I forgot, you're a Winchester. What was I thinking? What about...” Gabriel took Sam's left hand in his and Sam noticed that there was an old ring wrapped around his ring finger with swirls in the band and the black stone glinted in the motel room light. Famine's ring, Sam realized with a cold shutter. Gabriel kissed the back of his hand, warming him again. “I promise to stop you from drinking demon blood and keep you from getting yourself killed." Sam's skin flushed, his chest tightening. "And you promise you'll be mine."

 

“Are you asking me to marry you?” Sam's mouth was agape and Gabriel chuckled.

 

“Fuck no, we are no where near that point. And humans have all but made the concept pretty insignificant.” Gabriel grinned and Sam took a deep breath because, fuck, he was not ready for that. “It's a posy ring. Very popular in the Shakespearean period, I'll have you know. It means you're called for, so don't think you can run off to another revenge scheme on me.” Gabriel twisted the ring a little on Sam's ring finger thoughtfully. “Mind you it's also a key that will trap Lucifer.” Gabriel's eyes met Sam's and Sam relaxed. Sam caressed Gabriel's jaw with his fingers.

 

“Promise me you're mine too?” Sam asked and Gabriel smirked.

 

“Do you got a ring to back it up with?” Gabriel waggled his eyebrows. 

 

“I... have one in mind.” Sam promised thoughtfully. He remembered one that he'd gotten himself from another horseman.

 

“I'll hold you to it.” Gabriel pushed himself up and kissed Sam's lips warmly before he grinned. “Now, how about we consummate this promise.” Sam scoffed.

 

“You'll consummate anything,” Sam accused with a light smile.

 

“Well I like consummating with you.” Gabriel gave Sam a chaste kiss. “Over and over,” a more lingered kiss followed, “and over, and-” Sam returned the kiss faster, pulling Gabriel into a heated kiss, tired of the teasingly light pecks. Gabriel's mouth curved into a smile against Sam's, and what he returned was a warm reminder of what they'd had once. Falling back into it was like breathing; warm and easy. But it was anything but slow; a rekindled spark grew hotter with each breath. Sam's fingers tightened in Gabriel's hair.

 

"I missed you." Sam breathed out finally, pressing his forehead against Gabriel's. "So much..." Sam's breath hitched and he took a moment to just hold on to someone he wanted to keep. He felt his eyes sting with tears and he berated himself for remembering all the time they'd lost.

 

"Easy on the water works." Gabriel's cool thumb traced Sam's cheek, and he kissed the corner of Sam's mouth warmly. "I missed you too. Even though you can't listen to me worth a damn." Sam scrubbed the beginning of tears from his eyes with the heel of his hands and Gabriel gave him an easy smile. "Still love me?" Sam smiled widely.

 

"Yes," Sam said firmly. Their lips met again and Sam closed his eyes; forgetting the lost time with the depth of it. Sam's fingers curled in Gabriel's hair and the base of Gabriel's neck, just wanting to hold him close. As though the archangel wouldn't be able to fly out on him again. Gabriel sat up more, kissing Sam back with deep, longing kisses. Sam moaned softly, meeting them with his own. Gabriel slid one of Sam's legs over his own waist and pulled Sam into his lap effortlessly. Sam was much taller than Gabriel on a regular basis, but Sam was constantly reminded at times like this that Gabriel was so much stronger than him. He previously thought it was deity strength, and really, knowing it was angel strength didn't change anything. Gabriel slid his hand up Sam's back and then back up under the shirt. His hands were warm and firm, just like before. Sam pushed the jacket from Gabriel's shoulders, continuing to kiss deeply; neither were eager to break contact. Gabriel unbuttoned Sam's shirt with quick fingers and Sam smiled as Gabriel kissed his collar bone.

 

“Not going to snap everything away today?” Sam asked.

 

“Mm, can't.” Gabriel glanced up at him with a smirk. “Too distracted by your washboard abs.” The abs which Gabriel revealed with each button and his hand pressed against Sam's skin so eagerly. "You've been eating your Wheaties." Gabriel appraised as his fingers familiarized themselves with Sam's body again, which had grown harder though out the months. Sam pressed into the firm hands and pulled off the black shirt from Gabriel's body. 

 

"You... haven't changed at all." Sam realized, looking at the less sculpted flesh. Gabriel chuckled, not taking it as an insult.

 

"Same vessel," Gabriel excused himself and ran his hands down Sam's thighs and ass. “Same mind blowing skills.” Gabriel gripped the latter for a firmer than needed squeeze. “You, however, have gained a firmer ass.” Sam rolled his eyes.

 

"Same pervert inside the vessel," Sam commented dryly and Gabriel gave him a wink.

 

"Well, soon to be back inside," Gabriel said, earning a half-hearted smack on his shoulder before he cupped Gabriel's neck and pulled himself up for another kiss. Denim and flesh rubbed together, making sweet heat. 

 

Sam remembered a lot of their sex-scapades from what seemed like long ago, which were hot and hard. It was a lot of flesh and passion. But this was different. Gabriel didn't snap away their clothes to get to the deed faster. Gabriel was intent on re-exploring every memory of Sam's body with his lips or hands. Gabriel kissed Sam's neck and chest, his hands sliding down and relieved Sam of his pants and shoes. Both boots were dropped with thumps on the floor. Sam groaned, his thighs squeezed Gabriel's waist and his fingers dug into Gabriel's skin, dragging upwards and kissing Gabriel's lips when ever he could. 

 

Gabriel pulled Sam's knees from under him and Sam's back hit a comfier mattress with satin sheets. Sam's fingers dug into the dark sheets and he raised both brows at Gabriel. “Can't help yourself, can you?” Gabriel leaned down and gave him a chaste kiss.

 

“I'm not allowed to like doing it on a nice bed?” Gabriel pushed down his pants and discarded them over his shoes. “For a Valentine Suit, it's a crumby mattress.” Sam smiled, knowing Gabriel's tastes in tactile comforts. Gabriel's fingers trailed down, following the valley's of Sam's abs. “I think this deserves to be a bit better than that.” Gabriel took his time and paid particular attention to the defined abs and hip lines. 

 

Sam laid back to enjoy the once familiar caresses and his hands slid down Gabriel's shoulders and arms; They were firmer than one would think. It always reminded Sam that Gabriel was far more than what Sam could see. He always knew that when they were together before, but Sam was more aware of it now. Gabriel's thumbs pressed circular motions in Sam's hip and Sam bit his bottom lip. Gabriel kissed Sam's jugular softly, both his knees parting Sam's legs and Sam was compliant. 

 

“Been a while?” Gabriel murmured and Sam nodded slowly, taking a deep breath. He pulled out a bottle of lube from that infinite space where Gabriel kept everything.

 

“Yeah.” Sam admitted, swallowing. “I mean, over a year...” Sam heard a cap click and he twirled a lock of Gabriel's hair in his fingers, remembering the one time they made love. It was warm and Sam felt safe. Sam always prided himself on keeping himself safe, and protecting Dean. But feeling safe always meant it was going to be torn away from him, so he should never get comfortable; like with Jess. And then it was Gabriel. But Gabriel didn't catch fire, Sam had just burnt the bridge, and it hurt more than he ever thought it would.

 

Sam kissed Gabriel again, feeling the familiar sensation of lubrication against his hole. He groaned softly as the first finger slid in. Gabriel kissed him back sweetly and Sam's toes curled into the sheets. Gabriel started to rub the finger inside Sam, sending subtle, but familiar sensations to run through him. Gabriel spread him opened with practiced ease and Sam groaned, having missed the sensations. Gabriel's hand pushed Sam's leg up under the knee, spreading Sam's legs wider. Sam's breath became heavy. "Oh..." Gabriel eyed him and started to thrust his fingers into Sam's tight cheeks. "Ah..." Sam's fingers gripped into Gabriel's back, his own shoulders hunching. Gabriel continued the treatment. Sam remembered how many nights Gabriel would take his time. How much Gabriel made him squirm and moan under his fingers; patiently building up the pleasure until Sam was desperate for release. Gabriel teased the prostrate with his fingers and stretched Sam; Gabriel always liked watching Sam lose control.

 

"Fuck..." Sam murmured into Gabriel's neck. "Lo-Lo... Gabe..." Sam was caught between the names and Gabriel leaned forward, kissing Sam's chest.

 

"Whatever you call me is fine." Gabriel smiled and Sam took deep breaths. His hips squirmed against the continuous and relentless fingers. 

 

"Fuck, it's been so long..." Sam murmured and closed his eyes, "Lok-i..." He tried it out with the rumble of a moan and Gabriel smiled at him; nostalgia coming back to him. Sam braced himself when Gabriel replaced his fingers with his cock effortlessly in Sam's trembling body. Sam moaned again, more into the archangel's skin. "Ah... Gabriel..." It rolled off his tongue and Sam decided he liked it. "Gabriel..." Gabriel groaned, never having been moaned to with his real name. Sam rocked against the fullness, his lips locked with Gabriel's, pants escaped between their lips. Gabriel's fingers slid into Sam's hair and he deepened the kiss, rocking against Sam, creating that sweet friction called pleasure. Gabriel's hands cupped Sam's thighs, guiding him into a slow rhythm and Sam's knees tightened around Gabriel's waist, murmuring Gabriel's name between kisses and being consumed in the moment. 

 

Even after their satisfactions had been reached, they kissed and melted into a familiar canoodle. Gabriel lay on Sam's chest and twirled the ring that was on Sam's left hand; which rested between them. 

 

“This is safe, right?” Sam asked after a long while, watching Gabriel's closed eyes, soaking in the aftermath of bliss. “I mean, Famine's ring.”

 

“Yeah, doesn't work if the horseman is dead.” Gabriel's arm adjusted around Sam's waist and opened his warm honey eyes. Sam smiled warmly and Gabriel returned it.

 

“10 more minutes, and I should call Dean.” Sam sighed contently and Gabriel groaned.

 

“An hour.” Gabriel argued.

 

“I have to let him know what happened, he'll be worried.” Sam reasoned aloud, for both of them.

 

“We NEVER get time alone.” Gabriel complained.

 

“Well...” Sam shrugged awkwardly. It was sort of true. The one period of time when they had had that time together, Sam had been in mourning and it wasn't quality time. “Yes, but I have to check on Dean and Cas, to make sure they haven't split yet. I have to make sure they're alright.” Gabriel paused, as though he'd completely forgotten about that tiny detail.

 

“...You owe me a date. A real one,” Gabriel finally said and Sam smiled.

 

“Yeah, okay.” Sam pulled Gabriel closer, savoring the few minutes they had before he had to get up.


	26. Happy Splitday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize there is still an issue with the Sabriel for some people. I'm not sorry for the Sabriel and this will continue to be a Destiel and Sabriel story. I wanna thank everyone who has defended and supported this story, it really helped me feel better. I don't want there to be a large fight in the comments because of some of the rebut of an anonymous person. I'm not changing the story under their pressure. I would appreciate if we could all ignore the angry person or persons because I don't want there to be a bunch of agita with someone you can't reason with. If the comments do bother the other readers I can and will delete them if you let me know. I dislike deleting things for reference reasons. 
> 
> This is my story, I wrote it out of pure gratuitous pleasure and also to improve my own writing process. If there is critical criticism I do want to know because I look over things and my beta is privy to the whole picture so she may miss something as well; there might be grammatical or punctuation errors.

“Famine?” Dean asked over the phone as Sam explained what happened in Jasper, Indiana. Dean was sitting on the barn floor, leaning against the hay bales. Castiel's angel blade was next to him within reach to his left and Castiel was to his right. The angel's head rested against his thigh; finally sound asleep after nearly 24 hours, “Shit, If I'd known...” Dean's fist clenched but he couldn't finish the line because Castiel was laying there and he knew he couldn't just leave Castiel there alone. Not this time.

 

“It's okay Dean, Gabriel came by.” Sam sounded way more relaxed than usual, which was nice from the tense interactions they'd been having for a while now. The apocalypse was damn stressful. “We have Famine's ring, and we're packing up. Well, I'm packing up.”

 

“You take foreeeveeer.” Gabriel's voice was in the background.

 

“ANYways.” Sam said, clearly ignoring the impatient archangel. “Do you want us to head over to you?” Dean looked down at Castiel, who was blinking his tired eyes up at Dean. Great, so much for Castiel finally getting some sleep. Even Dean had snagged a few hours nap time.

 

“I'm not sure there's too much you can do, we've just been sitting here all day.” Dean had already paced for 3 hours and flipped though a damn magazine of Sam's that he found in the Impala. People magazine was insanely boring, but leaving for anything else could cause him to miss the split, and then he wouldn't be any better than his 2014 version. It was nearly midnight and the barn was dark except for a couple flashlights that Dean had set up.

 

"Back up if nothing else." Sam supplied.

 

"Well, since you got Gabe there," Dean's free hand was pulled into Castiel's at his chest and Dean squeezed Castiel's fingers to reassure him silently, "ask him what the hell should we expect from a nephilim?" The archangel hadn't said anything useful since the warehouse and they were pretty much out of time. Dean heard a small conversation as Sam passed the cell to Gabriel. 

 

"Expect trouble," Gabriel said casually. "lots and lots of trouble." Dean rolled his eyes.

 

"I meant for the split." Dean rolled his eyes and Castiel squirmed slightly, squeezing Dean's hand tighter. At least there was no angel strength to it or he was pretty sure his fingers would have been crushed.

 

"I meant for the split," Gabriel returned. "Just get out of there as soon as you can. You won't need that vessel plan you guys cooked up." Dean blinked.

 

"What? You decided to tell us that NOW?" Dean's hand was pulled again and Dean looked down. Castiel's face contorted in pain and Dean was distracted from anything Gabriel was saying. "Cas?"

 

"Dean," Castiel gasped. "It's happening." Dean sat up straight, eyes going wide.

 

"Now? Right NOW?" Dean's hand was released and Castiel rolled over to press his forehead into the dirt. "Shit, Cas!" Dean dropped his phone in exchange for the angel blade, looking around for any suited heavenly messengers. Castiel clawed at the hoof flattened dirt and his head turned, his eyes glowing and light shined though Castiel's gritted teeth. Dean put a hand to Castiel's back but it burned hot and Dean covered his eyes with his arm, knowing well enough that the light could burn out his eyeballs.

 

Castiel's restrained screams soon was an ear piercing pitch and Dean was more concern with his ears bleeding than he was anything else. He shut his eyes tight and clamped his palms over his ears, getting that feeling that his head was going to explode if it took any more pressure.

 

And then all the pressure, noise, and light were gone. Dean slowly opened his eyes, seeing spots despite hiding his eyes. And his ears were more than ringing. Castiel was on his back, body shaking and broken out in a sweat. He was whole though, so that was good. Then Dean looked up, because there was a flutter sound. His grip tightened on the blade, but there was no suited angel. There was just one pink and pale skinned little girl no older than 9 or 10, standing there; completely naked. She had short dark hair, chubby cheeks, and sea green eyes. And then... Dean had to blink a couple times, to make sure his eyes were seeing correctly; mostly because there were some black spots fogging his view. Were those... There were wings on her back. Inky black wings, like shadows.

 

She was staring at him and he slowly lowered the blade. He blinked at her, stunned. She just stood there, and then, she blinked back. Though she looked as though it was a conscious effort.

 

"Holy shit," Dean murmured and Castiel suddenly gasped back to life and Dean's eyes flickered back and forth from the girl to Castiel, who was breathed with labored intakes and his eyes were wide and blue. "Easy, easy..." Dean pressed his hands under Castiel's shoulders, lifting up because the man was flailing in a way to move. "We're good, we're good, look." Castiel stilled as soon as he saw her, their eyes locked.

 

"Nemamiah," Castiel's voice was hoarse but she responded, inclining her head at her name. Castiel's shaky arm reached out and curled around her, hugging her against him. Dean's hands were pressed firmly to Castiel's back, keeping Castiel upright and he got a better look at those wings up close; which were all feathers. Tuft-like baby feathers made up half of it. Then there were some sleek prime feathers that reached her knees. Nemamiah's arms finally wrapped around Castiel's neck in a stiff return hug and Dean found himself smiling for a split moment; before he heard more tell tale whispers of wings. 

 

Dean half turned, seeing there were three angels blocking their way to the Impala. Shit. Castiel was out of god juice and he had one freaking angel blade. Dean lifted the short sword and he kept in mind that there were a few blood sigils only inches away; but wouldn't that send away Nemamiah and Castiel? He didn't want to risk it.

 

"We're here for the fallen and the new angel," One of the angels in a pin stripe suit said. All of them had their blades in hand. One human against 3 angels didn't look good at all to Dean.

 

Castiel didn't have the energy to look at the three angels in the door way. All he could focus on was the little girl that was his and in his arms. He ran his fingers through her wings, brushing away some of the loose tufts and he pressed his forehead to hers; eyes closed. He pushed his knowledge to her and hoped she would understand what he could gather with his shattered concentration. Nemamiah blinked several times and her hand entangled in Dean's jacket; gaining his attention for a split moment. Her wings gave a sharp, stiff flap and they were whisked away.


	27. Great Escape

Gabriel heard the high pitched scream of an angel over the phone before it short circuited and then there was just dial tone. 

 

"Damn it." Gabriel grumbled, shutting the phone and tossing it back to Sam, who caught it against his chest. 

 

"What happened?" Sam asked, stuffing it back into his pocket. They were fully dressed again because Sam didn't want to be in the town too long after a case. 

 

"Castiel split at the wrong time, of course." Gabriel waved his hand dismissively. "per-Winchester-usual."

 

Sam gave Gabriel a confused gaze. "Cas isn't really related by blood..."

 

"The kid is though," Gabriel grumbled. "Figures the spawn of your brother would have just as much bad-"

 

There was a small crash where Dean suddenly landed in the motel room 2 feet from the carpet. Dean groaned and sat up, just as Castiel landed on top of him. So did a little girl, who landed on top of the pile. Sam's jaw dropped at the scene, hands half lifted and frozen. Gabriel pulled his hair and gestured to the pile of people who suddenly appeared; train of thought completely lost.

 

"Really?!" Gabriel asked rhetorically. Before any of them could get over a first attempt of a crash landing by a young nephilim, Gabriel was over to them. Within the second and he pressed a hand to Nemamiah's chest, burning Enochian sigils to her new ribs. The girl didn't scream but her eyes went wide and here eyes welled up, her first tears falling down her face.

 

"Gabriel..." Dean said warningly, but wearily because he was coming back to awareness.

 

"Shut it," Gabriel warned. "There's no other way to keep a nephilim off Heaven's radar." He lifted the girl from Castiel's chest by her arms and set her on her feet. Dean was soon focused on seeing if Castiel was still alive, because he was unconscious. Sam was by Dean within a moment, not sure where to focus between the naked child and Castiel not responding.

 

"Jesus Christ, what happened?" Sam asked and soon he was back to his duffel, digging around in it for SOMETHING. Gabriel's attention was on the new little girl.

 

"Easy there, sweetheart," Gabriel soothed, running his hand through Nemamiah's short dark hair, taking advantage of a new angel's instinct to do as they're told. He snapped his fingers and a lollipop manifested in his hand and he crouched down to her level. He took her hand and curled her smaller fingers around the stick, to distract her with the bright red treat. "Look, you were such a good girl, your first experience in food will be the worst for you." Her eyes were drawn to the lollipop, the pain slowly ebbed from her face. Gabriel chuckled and made his own lollipop, sticking it into his mouth; only he chose grape flavor. She watched him and opened her mouth, biting the treat, working out how to eat it. Though as soon as the flavor was on her tongue she seemed to get it. She copied Gabriel fairly well, lifting her head. Gabriel patted her soft black tufts of hair. "Good girl." Fledgling nephilim learned fast when given the time.

 

Sam approached Nemamiah and Gabriel with a clean shirt that was going to be far too big for her, but at least it would cover her. He rolled up one side of the shirt and looked at her.

 

"Um... lift up your arms, please?" Sam asked and she looked up at Sam, doing as she was told. Sam was staring at her wings for a moment before he could move again. He fitted her hands through the arm holes and let it fall over her head. It got caught on the extra half-splayed out limbs.

 

"Oh, she doesn't even know how to fold them properly," Gabriel said fondly and he pushed the wings in, following the natural joints, and then pulled the rest of the shirt down over them. She watched him curiously and once he let them go, they sprang out the shirt in the back. 

 

"She actually has wings..." Sam was baffled and Gabriel shrugged.

 

"Well yes, she doesn't know how to hide them yet. It'll have to be worked on." Gabriel then shooed Sam towards the door. "Get your car packed, those angels still had some of her trail to follow earlier. They'll get here eventually." Sam was startled by the order but he grabbed his keys and his duffel, giving a glance at Dean and Castiel before going outside to get the car running. Gabriel urged the girl over to her sires, where Dean was still on the floor, trying to wake Castiel up. Nemamiah went back over to them like a magnet, eying Dean and Castiel expectantly. "Dino, we got to go. Cas isn't waking up after all that." Gabriel wasn't going to spend all night waiting. He lifted Castiel up from the hunter and nodded to Nemamiah before heading out to the car. 

 

Dean got to his feet, despite the pain of the crash landing, and still mentally protested Gabriel scooping Castiel away from him. He looked to Nemamiah, who looked up at him with the sucker still in her mouth. He swallowed, reaching a hand for hers and her hand met him half way. “Come on, kiddo, let's blow this joint.” She followed without question as they left the motel room.

 

Gabriel laid Castiel in the back seat of the small sedan Sam had “borrowed” and waved Nemamiah in with the unconscious one. He then shooed Dean to the passenger seat after closing the back seat. "I can fly, you guys on the other hand, can not."

 

"You're staying?" Sam asked, his window rolled down. Gabriel walked over to Sam's window, looking the other in the eye.

 

"Do you want a distraction or not? These guys aren't going to stop chasing unless they are made to lose it." Gabriel removed his lollipop and leaned in Sam's window, giving Sam a deep, open mouthed kiss; which startled Dean. Gabriel pulled back, smirking because it surprised Sam as well. "I hope you know how lucky you are to have me." Sam smile shyly, because he was very aware of Dean's eyes.

 

"Extremely." Sam muttered and Gabriel patted his cheek with a hand.

 

"Off with the lot of you." Gabriel demanded with a wave of his hand and Sam hesitated for just a moment before putting the car into gear and pulling out of the parking lot; driving into the night. 

 

Gabriel sighed after seeing them go and he heard the flaps of wings landing. Three angels dropped inside of the motel room. He shook his head and turned to face them as they came out. "Sorry, can't let you pass go, and you can not collect 200 dollars." Gabriel snapped his fingers of both hands. Two of the angels were flung into TV Land for later and the remaining was pushed back into the motel room by pure force of an archangel's will. Gabriel was rusty with fighting, but it seemed that day was a crash course in remembering. He twirled the lollipop in his cheek and walked back into the motel room to make sure no word got back to Heaven.


	28. Slice of Apple Pie

Dean swirled around the beer in his bottle, absorbing everything that had happened within the past few hours. He leaned against the wall of Bobby's house; they had made it back while it was daylight out. First of all, Sam was outside, talking to Gabriel on the phone and Dean could see him pacing around, kicking his feet with a smile on his face. It was weird enough because Sam had been nothing but a bucket of angst since starting the Apocalypse. He was obviously talking to his 'boyfriend'; which... Dean couldn't even make a girl joke at that point. Not when Castiel was sitting in the living room with a young girl, who was half Dean's, and they kept touching each others' foreheads with their index and middle fingers since Castiel woke up. Nemamiah had been a silent addition to the car ride, but Dean often caught her looking at her own hands and Castiel, as though coming to terms with her existence. Castiel had only woken up once they'd gotten back to Bobby's and had not let go of Nemamiah since. Castiel was currently sitting in a chair, his hand holding his daughter's, communicating silently. Bobby was more bemused than Dean, as his wheelchair was parked next to his desk.

 

“How the hell did he pop out a prepubescent?” Bobby finally asked and Dean shrugged.

 

“He... said a lot, that it wasn't a baby.” Dean sipped his beer. Bobby eye balled the lot of them, his flask in hand. Beer would not cover this amount of weird for him.

 

“You sure you contributed to the gene pool?” Bobby asked, seeing how much she mimicked and looked like Castiel. Dean scoffed.

 

“I'm not even going to dignify that with an answer.” Dean wasn't even sure HOW to answer that question. He had been, well... expecting a baby-baby. A small chubby thing that sort of resembled the cupids that well... signified the holiday she was split on. She did pop up naked and with wings, but he never expected a kid to act like... well, a small robot. She really did remind him of Castiel when he first met him; all serious-soldier and not knowing how to think on his own.

 

Dean noted that Sam practically skipped in with the amount of bounce that was in his step. He observed the father and daughter pair only a few feet away and joined the men speculating. “So... that's yours, Dean?”

 

“Apparently,” Bobby answered because Dean did not put forth one. Dean looked back to Castiel and Nemamiah. It was sort of sweet, Castiel looked brighter than he had in months. More than Dean had ever seen him, actually. Castiel wasn't the broad grinning fool type, but there was this genuine, serene peace that eased all the tension from his face. Almost like there wasn't a world falling apart around them. As though Lucifer wasn't walking the earth. As though all that mattered was the little girl standing right in front of him. Dean just... wanted to stand there and admire the purity of it; Castiel looked happy. Dean wouldn't admit to Bobby or Sam that it caught him in the chest more than he'd like.

 

“So she has her own body and everything.” Sam informed Bobby.

 

“And wings.” Bobby said.

 

“Yeah, Gabe says they can be hidden.” Sam said

 

“Feather-brain even tell ya what a nephilim is all about?” Bobby asked

 

“Not too much.” Sam shrugged, hands in his pockets.

 

“You idjits didn't even think to ask?” Bobby looked at Sam who shrugged, having been more occupied with Gabriel not hating him and then to Dean... who was not even paying attention and there was a small smile on his face. “Hey, lover-boy.” Dean looked at Bobby once he was directly spoken to.

 

“What?” Dean remembered his beer in his hand, standing up straighter. Bobby scoffed in a surprised manner.

 

“I get that yer enjoying your slice of apple pie moment, but we need to focus here. What happened with the last case you were on?” Dean shook his head and remembered the end of the world was happening.

 

“Right. Um, Sam, you sorta took care of that one, right?” Dean remembered something about that before Castiel went to split.

 

“Oh, yeah...” Sam took his hands out of his pockets, fiddling with a ring on his left hand, but he did not take it off. “Yeah, I got it, Famine is dead. People stopped eating each other...”

 

Bobby looked to the ring on Sam's hand, then to Dean. Neither brother had their heads in the evil fighting game. “I can't believe you two.” Bobby held his head, leaning heavily on the arm of his chair. “Ya both are... are twitterpated with angels. You need to focus here.” Both stared at Bobby with raised eyebrows.

 

“Did you just say twitterpated?” Dean asked.

 

“As in, from Bambi?” Sam referenced. Bobby grew flustered and made a gesture in Castiel's direction.

 

“Shut it, there's a tyke in the room.” Bobby's excuse seemed valid enough to him. Dean glanced at Sam next with his raised brow.

 

“Bambi, Sam?”

 

“Dean, you watched it too.”

 

“Like a million years ago!”

 

“You still knew what it meant.”

 

They were distracted by a padding of feet and Nemamiah was there, looking at Dean with searching sea green eyes and her arm was lifted up, two fingers extended like Castiel did when ever he healed them or was going to transport them somewhere. Dean blinked down at her, not exactly sure what she was doing.

 

"She wishes to exchange life experiences so she knows of her origins," Cas explained softly. Dean grimaced, holding his beer out of her reach.

 

"Can't she talk?" Dean asked. "Cause I'd rather she not poke around in my head. I don't want her finding anything she's not supposed to."

 

"It's how angels communicate in heaven," Cas said, leaning back in his chair, gently rubbing his temples with his fingers as though he had a headache. "It's instinct. It is how we are all first trained." Nemamiah waved her hand, as though enforcing Castiel's words. Dean took her half fist in his gently and it was firmer than he expected of a little girl.

 

"Okay, Mama-mia..." Dean eased her hand down. "Let's try words. You've got to have a vocabulary of your own, don't you?" Nemamiah blinked back up at him, not replying.

 

"Nemamiah," Castiel corrected at he lowly leaned back in his chair.

 

"Fine, how about Miah?" Dean asked. He'd thought all this time there would be a boy so he didn't feel quite right calling her Nem anymore. Nema didn't really sound right either. Castiel inclined his head to the side and the weirdest thing was that Nemamiah did as well; she wasn't even looking at Castiel. Nemamiah lifted her hand again, pushing back Dean's hand with ease.

 

"Dean," She said, in a way that mirrored Castiel. That silent communication that Castiel always did with just Dean's name; portraying emotion when the face did not.

 

"Miah." Dean cleared his throat and crouched down to her level, forcing her hand down with more force than he wanted to admit to using. "First rule, Kiddo. This is my noggen and I don't want you digging around in it. It's not all kid friendly. Now, I know you're not all angel, you're at least part human. So we're going to use words to talk, got it?" She lifted her head a little, staring at him with an intelligence that should not be instilled in a young child. She seemed to process what he was saying, but she turned and trotted back to Castiel, the back of her wings shifting under the shirt. Castiel's hands slid from his head and leaned forward again. He looked weary but he closed his eyes and he touched her temple with the two fingers. 

 

Dean scratched his head and stood back up. He looked to Sam and Bobby for help. Bobby took a drink from his flask and Sam gave Dean a shrug, sympathetic for Dean's confusion and situation. After a moment where Castiel just ended up holding his head in his hand, a wave of exhaustion coming over him, Nemamiah stepped back over to Dean, looking up at him. Dean looked down at her. "What is it, half pint?"

 

"Teach me," Nemamiah stated. "Castiel's knowledge is limited." Dean's brows were raised high, mouth puckering slightly.

 

"Okay, first of all, it's weird that you're calling Cas by his full name." Dean looked up at Castiel. "Did you teach her that?"

 

"I was not sure how else to reference myself when we were in immediate peril." Castiel leaned back, taking a deep calming breath. Castiel must have still been exhausted from the split. He looked completely frayed and ready for a good nap.

 

"Of course not." Dean sighed, putting his empty beer bottle down. "Come on, kiddo, grab a seat."

 

"Nemamiah," She corrected, following Dean to the couch that was in the living room. It seems like she was even trying to copy Castiel's stubborness.

 

"Fine, Miah." Dean's butt hit the cushions of the couch.

 

"Nemamiah."

 

"It's a nickname. I don't even call Cas by his full name." Dean gripped the TV remote in his hand firmly. "Sit." Nemamiah looked at the cushions he pointed to and sat next to him. She sat sightly slouched as Castiel did. Though now with the wings, it sort of made sense. Dean took one corner of the couch for himself. "First of all, Cas is your dad. So don't use his first name." He saw her little brain process, blinking a few times.

 

"Father?" She decided and Dean nodded.

 

"Dad is fine." Dean said and she seemed reluctant. 

 

"Dad," She repeated, tasting the word.

 

"Good." Dean nodded. "Now um... Me..." He paused, remembering he was a part of this as well now; but he didn't exactly want to be called pops or something like that. Made him sound old.

 

"Dad," Nemamiah said, looking directly at him, with that tone she used for calling him his given name. Dean's mouth fell slack, realizing she was referring to him. Well he was, wasn't he?

 

"Okay, That's fine." He held out the remote for the TV, loosening his grip on it, dangling it in front of the girl. "Now, if you want to know about the world, just watch TV."

 

"Really, Dean?" Sam gave Dean a raised brow. "You're going to turn a nephilim into a couch potato?"

 

"What? Dad did the same thing with us." Dean pushed the power button and the news flashed on and took a moment to focus on the old TV set. Nemamiah perked with the buzz of the live TV and her eyes were immediately drawn to it. Her eyes were wide as she took in the moving pictures. "Now, if you see anything you have a question about, ask me, not Cas. Cas doesn't know anything about TV."

 

"I'm learning," Castiel defended himself mildly.

 

Dean pushed the channel button and Nemamiah's eyes flickered to the remote. Dean dangled the remote in front of her and she took it, eying all of the buttons and words before she started pushing them. She turned the volume way down, then up, and then back down to a manageable level. She pushed the numbers, putting in random channels, most that didn't work. Her eyes flickered about sometimes as though seeing something there but she tried every button at least once before she held it back out to Dean. Dean's brows raised and he accepted it.

 

"Y'know, most kids are remote hogs," Dean mused and Nemamiah turned her attention back to the TV, focusing. The TV then flashed, changing to a channel up. And then again, and again. Dean stared at her and looked at the remote, of which he was not pushing. "How are you doing that?"

 

"The remote uses infrared lights to tell the TV what to do. If I copy the light signals I do not need the controller." She looked at Dean, who's mouth was hanging open. "I'm learning." Dean looked back to everyone else, eyes landing on Castiel, who seemed to be in a simple state of pride, and pointedly not looking at Dean. Sam chuckled and Bobby was smiling too.

 

Bobby looked at Sam with a smirk. "She's got Dean's sass, is what she's got." Sam agreed with a smile and Nemamiah settled on a channel where a cheetah was chasing down an antelope.


	29. Rest Does the Body Good

Nemamiah was as content as any kid with a TV and a couch could be; blissfully zoned out, watching Animal Planet. After about an hour of focused attention on the TV, Dean got up to discuss plans with both Sam and Bobby.

 

“We need to get her clothes.” Dean determined. “And shoes, and... well, everything...”

 

“Local department store is open until 10,” Bobby informed him. Sam rubbed his forehead thinking through the long night and day they'd had.

 

“She can't walk in with wings,” Sam said. “So we could either try to well... size her or wait until she learns to hide them.” Bobby ran his hand through his beard.

 

“An' I suppose you all need a place to bunk,” Bobby grumbled.

 

“Well Hell...” Dean looked around the book stacked house. “Cot in the panic room, couch, floor. You don't mind, do ya, Bobby?”

 

“Sometimes I should,” Bobby grumbled. “And since Cas is graceless, I can't exactly get flown upstairs to my bed. So the couch is mine.” Dean and Sam never brought up the idea of making Bobby's house wheel chair accessible. The old man would throw a fit.

 

“We could use some food,” Sam said after a moment. None of them had eaten in several hours. Dean remembered the last thing he ate was that breakfast sandwich that Castiel had turned down before his severance. That felt like weeks ago.

 

“Yeah, food, then plan,” Dean agreed and looked back to Nemamiah and Castiel. Nemaniah looked fine but Castiel was sitting in his seat, eyes closed with his one hand covering half his face, keeping him upright from the verge of sleep. Dean walked over to him and rested a hand on Castiel's shoulder. His body jerked and he sat up straighter, a half yawn leaving him. "Hey, how you holding up?" 

 

"Mm." Castiel shook his head carefully, his back cracking as he stretched forward and his face contorted with the pain of it. "Not very well." Castiel ran his hands down his head and face.

 

“Well, Hell, I can only imagine.” Dean watched Castiel's shoulders slump again and he looked up at Dean with heavy lidded eyes which were surrounded by dark circles; he looked paler than usual. “How about you get some sleep?”

 

"No, no." Castiel tucked his hands into his lap so his arms would prop him up better. "Nemamiah was just split. I need to be up. Watchful." He blinked hard and a twitch ran though his body to fight the on coming exhaustion. "I don't need sleep."

 

“You look like you do.” Dean gestured to the hallway. “Pregnant or not, you just gave birth to a kid with wings. You should rest up.” Castiel took a deep breath and shook his head, his eyes closed.

 

“I should be up, I have to watch her,” Castiel murmured, fading to half coherency again. 

 

“Cas. Me, Sam, and Bobby are here,” Dean reminded him and Castiel blinked hard to try to focus. Dean hoped it was something Castiel could recover from as a human. He did just have his grace torn out. Or half his grace. Dean didn't even know if Castiel had an ounce of grace left in him. “We can handle a little babysitting.“ Castiel pursed his lips and looked to Nemamiah, who was watching them instead of her TV program. Then the audible sound of Castiel's belly whining could be heard and Dean gave a sad chuckle. Castiel was a wreck. “Sleep and food.”

 

“I still feel rather nauseous.” Castiel admitted and leaned forward, hiding his face with his hands again, “And I'm not sure which is more painful. My head, my stomach, or my spine...”

 

“One thing at a time.” Dean gave in to a sympathetic rub to the back of Castiel's neck, despite Sam and Bobby watching. Castiel just looked that bad.

 

“We're all hungry,” Sam said as he lifted up a Chinese menu from among Bobby's clutter. “How about I order food, and until then Cas can go rest?” Castiel ran his hands down his face with a heavy sigh. 

 

“I suppose rest is in order,” Castiel relented. Dean was please that Castiel seemed to accept his fate of sleeping to heal up. Though when Castiel rocked forward to stand, he sat again with a grimace of pain.

 

“Come 'ere you.” Dean took Castiel's elbow to help him up and Castiel stood better with the support.

 

“May as well use my bed since I ain’t,” Bobby grumbled, almost sounding sympathetic, but managed to sound bitter because of the very fact of it.

 

“See, an actual bed and everything,” Dean encouraged and Nemamiah pushed herself from the couch and trotted over to them both. She took Castiel's hand in hers and Castiel looked down at her and smiled faintly as he returned the squeeze.

 

"Tired, Miah?" Dean asked and she shook her head no.

 

"Father, I'll watch over you." She tugged on Castiel's hand.

 

"You may if you wish." Castiel smiled a little more, but at the same time, looked more exhausted for it.

 

"Yes." Nemamiah nodded and Dean lead them both upstairs. Dean found Bobby's room, which was plain, with a few left over decorations from his wife. There were just nick-knacks, like some flower cross stitch and a quilt that normally didn't go over a bachelor's bed; only a widower's. Castiel was leaning heavily on Dean by the time they got there and Dean directed him to plop him down on the bed. "You're a wreck," Dean commented. Castiel did not even bother to comment, he just kicked off his shoes and tried to shrug off his trench coat with little success. Dean helped him peel it off and Nemamiah clambered into an empty spot on the bed. Dean grimaced because Sam's shirt only went to her tights when her wings were moving about. It was so odd, seeing the large hump behind her; made her look like a tiny Igor.

 

“Dean.” Castiel had scooted under the covers and was laying down with his head on the pillow.

 

“Mm, yeah?” Dean looked down at Castiel, who's eyes closed.

 

“Thank you.” There was a warm swell in Dean's chest and a smile tugged at his lips.

 

“Told you we'd get through this,” Dean said. Nemamiah knelt on the quilt, acting as a guard dog or something. Dean wondered mildly if nephilim slept. “So, Sam's ordering. What do ya want before you black out on me?”

 

“Beef,” Castiel murmured. “I'm craving red meats.”

 

“Got ya.” Dean looked at Nemamiah who was observing quietly from her spot next to Castiel. "How about you, half-pint?"

 

"Food?" She asked and Dean wondered if nephilim ate, or if they were more angel and didn't need to.

 

"Yeah. I guess you've never had anything to eat before." Dean barely remembered the lollipop stick that had been in her mouth on the car trip home. She put her fingers to her mouth for a moment as her new little brain ticked away in though.

 

"Red. And Sweet." She finally said and Dean raised an eyebrow.

 

"Um... sweet and sour chicken it is." Dean looked back down at Castiel, who's eyes were closed, breath evening out. Dean looked back at Nemamiah. "If you get bored, feel free to come back downstairs, Okay?" She nodded.

 

"Okay," She said agreeably and Dean looked at them both for a moment. Castiel was comatose and Dean decided it was better for him to be until he was healed up. 

 

"Alright." Dean paused, watching Nemamiah shift back and forth, getting comfortable and sitting on her dirty feet. Her wings were twitching under the shirt and she pulled at the shoulder of the shirt, as though they were bothering her. “Got wing cramps or something?”

 

“The shirt bends my feathers.” She said with a slight crinkle in her nose. Dean smirked a bit, cause damn it, she was a cute kid.

 

“Come here.” Dean leaned over and Nemamiah scooted over to him obediently. It was one of Sam's loose ones, so on Nemamiah, the neck was extra big, almost off of her shoulder. He took the collar and stretched the neck back.

 

“Let's see if we can fix that.” He tugged the back of the collar down, careful not to choke her. “Can you lift that wing up?” He'd only caught glimpses of them when Castiel split, so he got a better look when one squeezed though the neck it nearly smacked him in the face as it shook itself out. She let out a sigh of relief and Dean assisted the other wing out as well, the elastic in the neck snapped as he stretched it and he guided out the soft down limb out with a hand. Sam's shirt was stretched out, but at least all her limbs were free and she immediately, very naturally, curled one wing under her arm so she could start fixing her black feathers. The other wing shook itself out and stretched wide.

 

“Neck's not too tight, is it?” He asked and she shook her head.

 

“No.” She gave him one of those Castiel smiles. The soft one with a head tilt. “Thank you, dad.” Dean smiled and ruffled her hair. It gave him this warm feeling when ever she called him that.

 

"Lemme know if he wakes up or you need anything." Dean reminded her and she nodded before he backed out to leave them be. Dean took a deep breath and stared downstairs slowly. He was still processing the wings and the fact that she was already far older looking than he thought she'd be. And the whole dad thing. He was still getting used to that. It felt weird. But it felt good.

 

"Dean?" Sam asked as he was jotting down what they were ordering on a scrap piece of paper. Dean walked into the library with Bobby and Sam again. "You okay?"

 

“Huh? Yeah.” Dean rubbed the back of his neck. “You're not going to miss that shirt, are you?” Sam slowly lifted one brow.

 

“Why?” Sam asked and Dean thumbed to the stairway.

 

“The neck is gonna be all stretched to hell because it was mangling her wings.” Dean shrugged. Sam sighed but after a moment he shrugged, trying to be indifferent.

 

“Well, it was an old shirt,” Sam muttered. Hunting did tend to put a short life span on most of their clothing. Dean added his, Nemamiah's, and Castiel's orders to Sam's list and also added 10 extra egg rolls but Sam purposely annoyed Dean by saying only 6 egg rolls and 4 spring rolls.


	30. Little China Delight

Dean stuffed an egg roll in his mouth before he headed upstairs. He opened the door to Bobby's room, certain that Castiel would be eager to eat, but he paused in the doorway. Both Castiel and Nemamiah were laying in bed and Dean was nearly tempted to take a picture. Castiel had rolled onto his side, back to the door. The covers had been thrown off and it was now tucked securely around Nemamiah with Castiel's arm under the folded wings. Castiel was curled protectively over his daughter as they blissfully slept. 

 

Dean said to Hell with it and got out his cell phone as he finished the mouthful of food he had. He snapped the picture on his phone and only Nemamiah stirred from the shutter sound. Dean slipped the phone back into his pocket and rested his hand on Castiel's arm, giving him a shake.

 

"Hey, Cas. Food's here," Dean said and Nemamiah dragged herself out of the blankets with a yawn and stretch of her arms. Her wings unfurled upwards, the feathers poofing up for a moment before neatly layering themselves back into a half sprawled angle as her arms came down. Dean watched the wings move, amazed with their dexterity. He wondered if Castiel had wings that were hidden. Neither Castiel or Gabriel had been surprised about them. Gabriel even seemed to be expecting them. Well, Dean only knew the answer to one question. Nephilim did sleep. Nemamiah rubbed her face in her palms and Castiel slowly stirred, a few audible cracks in his spine.

 

"Mm, alright," Castiel murmured but he only curled up tighter, pressing his face into the pillow. Nemamiah lit up with the word food and she slipped out of the bed, standing next to Dean. Dean tried again, giving a firmer shake.

 

"Bobby's not going to let you eat in bed," Dean said and sighed when he got basically the same response as before. Castiel had to be exhausted if he wasn't moving for food; he needed more sleep than the almost hour that it took for Sam to pick everything up. "We'll save you some. How about that?" He rubbed Castiel's shoulder with more care.

 

"That would be nice, Dean," Castiel murmured again and Dean covered Castiel again with the blankets. He leaned down, snagging a quick kiss against Castiel's stubbled cheek. Castiel hummed, his knuckles bumping Dean's cheek in acknowledgment before he drifted back to dreamland. Nemamiah shuffled her dirty feet on the wood floor and Dean pulled away and led the girl downstairs.

 

"You get your first taste of Little China Delight, sunshine." Dean ruffled her dark tufts of hair that matched her wings and she looked up at him. The wings did not sit still. They folded along her back mostly but as she went down the stairs they lifted a bit, catching the air as they descended. “Damn, you're like half bird, aren't you?”

 

“I'm half angel,” she replied as they entered the library, where Sam was sitting at one end of the couch, digging into his vegetable and chicken carton; using the chopsticks that came with the Chinese meal with practiced ease. Bobby had a fork as he chowed down at his desk. Dean's carton was already open on a stack of books by the couch but he searched the bag for another first; one trimmed with red sauce. "You're going to try some sweet and sour chicken." Dean plopped down on the free side of the couch, leaving enough room between him and his brother. He had an extra fork and waited for Nemamiah to take a seat before he handed her the carton. She looked at it a moment and sniffed the box before she slowly bent the wire that held the flaps in place and pushed the tab out of the slot. She then set the carton on her thigh to pry open the box, revealing the bright candy colored nuggets. Sam and Bobby both watched her, because understandably, there was a girl with wings about to eat sweet and sour chicken.

 

"Huh, at least you can open your own Chinese carton." Dean dangled the fork in front of her and her eyes followed it before she took it. "Let's see you eat your first meal." Her eyes flickered to Bobby, who was between eating and scanning a book. She held it like Bobby and pushed the tines into the chicken. She then lifted and took an ginger bite. The second bite was much bigger and she chewed vigorously. Dean grinned and smiled at Sam, who just raised an eye brow at Dean in return. "Half a day old, already eating solids."

 

"You shouldn't be so excited about that." Sam told him and ate a strip of pepper from his own carton. 

 

"What? It's true." Dean plucked up his own food and twirled the fork into his lo mien.

 

Nemamiah's eyes focused on Sam's chopsticks as she chewed.

 

"So, Miah. " Dean looked to the little girl again, who looked back at him, the second piece of chicken in her mouth. "You're a day old. What do you know?" She bit and chewed, tucking most of it into her cheek.

 

"'ots of gen'ral know'age," She managed and Sam grimaced.

 

"Swallow before you speak, Miah," he said and she swallowed the food that was in her mouth. Dean raised a brow at Sam.

 

"You going to be Miss. Manners?" Dean asked and Sam rolled his eyes.

 

"I know you're Sam and Dean," Nemamiah said and Bobby looked up from his book. "Dean is my dad. Castiel is my father. Sam is Dean's brother, so he's my uncle." She looked to Bobby. "You're Bobby. You live here. You all hunt things that hurt people." Dean couldn't remember them taking about what they did recently.

 

"Did... Cas zap that into your brain?" He asked and Nemamiah tilted her head.

 

"Castiel transferred knowledge that was essential." She bit into another piece of chicken, looking again to Sam. "Can I do that?"

 

"Do what?" Sam asked, his food half way to his mouth.

 

"Use sticks to eat with." She held up her fork, gesturing for another fork or stick.

 

"I... don't see why not." Sam stood up to fish one of the pairs of chopsticks from the bag on Bobby's desk. He handed her the package of disposable sticks. She steadied the box between her knees to inspect the sticks. The slid them from their paper wrapping and inspected them both individually. Sam smiled as he again sat next to her.

 

"I'm guessing this isn't part of the general knowledge," Sam inquired and she shook her head. She tried holding them like a fork and frowned before looking to Sam again.

 

"You do it," she said and Sam smiled a bit more because Dean was giving him one of those annoyed looks. He demonstrated how to use them and Nemamiah positioned them between her fingers like so. She practiced and tried lifting a piece of chicken, but it kept slipping from the wood.

 

"They're just chop sticks." Dean stuffed lo mien into his mouth.

 

"You're peeved because you still can't use them." Sam smiled knowingly.

 

"Why the hell should I learn with sticks what I can stab with a fork?" Dean indicated his point by stabbing his fork into the noodles and swirling them around the tines. 

 

"It's tricky," Nemamiah observed and finally stabbed the pesky chicken nugget with the ends of the chop sticks and popping it into her mouth. Dean chuckled.

 

"See, much easier," Dean pointed out to Sam, who gave him a mild bitch face.

 

"It's called variety, Dean. Broadening your skills." Sam said.

 

"Not an important skill," Dean argued. "Right, Bobby?"

 

"Beats looking like an idgit in Japan," Bobby said idly, glancing up at them.

 

"Bobby can use them too," Sam mentioned, just to dig into Dean a little more.

 

"Yeah, but he doesn't show off like SOME people." Dean eyed Sam.

 

"Ah, aw..." Nemamiah was still trying with the pieces in her carton that escaped her grasp.

 

"It takes practice," Sam assured her. "You'll get it."

 

"So, what else do you know, Miah?" Dean asked after she acquired another mouthful of food. Nemamiah swallowed and digging in the carton.

 

"I know that I'm 16 hours old," she said. "We're in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. United states of America. On Earth. February 15th, 2010." Dean nodded as Nemamiah used the side of the container to scoop a piece into her mouth to chew.

 

"Cas was pretty thorough." Dean said and Nemamiah swallowed her mouthful.

 

"I am half angel and half human," she said. "I'm a nephilim. Angels are ordered to kill me upon sight." Everyone in the room looked at her but Nemamiah was just still trying to pinch a nugget of chicken between the sticks. It was like a fact that she knew but didn't really grasp the full concept of the danger. "Castiel is fallen and has no more grace. His life is wanted as well. Gabriel is an archangel. He gave me a lollipop." She smiled fondly. "It was red flavored." This startled a chuckle out of Sam and Dean glanced at him.

 

"The Hell, Sam? Your boyfriend giving out lollipops to kids." Dean decided he was going to have to teach Nemamiah about the old lesson of not taking candy from strangers.

 

"Trickster or not, he likes sweet things." Sam shrugged and folded up the rest of his food in the container before he stood up to walk into the kitchen to put it away for later. 

 

"I know the Apocalypse has started," she continued thoughtfully, looking up to the ceiling; probably though the same library that Castiel had in his head. "Lucifer walks the earth and there are horsemen. Two now. Sam has demon blood..."

 

"How about we steer clear of that subject?" Dean waved his fork, wanting to not think about what was just beyond the walls of Bobby's house at the moment or about all the trouble Sam's demon blood junkie days had caused them all. The little girl seemed to be a walking encyclopedia like Castiel, but she was just regurgitating what she'd just learned hours ago. Angels were like fact sponges. Dean just hoped he could squeeze in some useful information; like what music to listen to or what fast food joints to avoid. 

 

Nemamiah took a moment to think and dug into her chicken with more vigor with the chop sticks. "Dean drives a 1967 Chevy Impala." She began to rattle off the information that Castiel had taught her. "He likes burgers, beer, and pie. He sleeps in 4 hour intervals. He likes Metallica, AC/DC, Led Zeplin, Motor Head, Black Sabbath, and he has a nice singing voice." The last one didn't sound like much of a fact, but an opinion. 

 

"Dean didn't sing on the way over..." Sam said curiously as he leaned between the double doors to the kitchen, "Did you hear it...” Sam waved his hand, trying to find the proper words, “Could you hear things when you were still... in Cas?" Nemamiah shook her head.

 

"No. I only remember awaking in the barn," She said, thinking back a moment. "Castiel told me so." Dean found himself smiling a little, because Castiel thought he had a nice singing voice. And he'd told Nemamiah about it. He dropped the smile when Bobby gave him a raised brow. 

 

"Anything else?" Bobby inquired and Nemamiah bit the end of the sticks, looking into her half empty container.

 

"I like lions. And wolves," Nemamiah said, thinking back to the programs she watched on TV. "I can hear angels."

 

"You can tune into Angel radio?" Dean asked as Nemamiah's cheek was full of chicken, sweet and sour sauce somewhat spattered on her as she was trying with the chopsticks. She nodded. "What are they saying?"

 

"Castiel told me to turn off the signal," Nemamiah replied after she swallowed.

 

"You can do that?" Dean asked and again she nodded. "And don't call Cas by his name, call him dad, or, you know, father."

 

"Father said it was better that I didn't listen," Nemamiah said and Dean raised a brow.

 

"How 'bout a peek? For me?" Dean asked and Nemamiah looked upwards, as though focusing very hard on a thought. She then opened her mouth, beginning to speak in Enochian; or rather, repeated it. It was slow, but constant and none of the humans really knew too much Enochian.

 

"What does that mean?" Sam asked curiously.

 

"Oh, they're just complaining about the new angel escaping with out a trace." Gabriel gained everyone's attention, standing in the door way of the library from the hallway. He gave a half-hearted shrug. "S'all they do. They can never stand the thought of one getting away. Smite this, smite that; you know the drill."

 

"Gabriel," Sam acknowledged with a note of surprise. Gabriel grinned at Sam, giving him a wink.

 

"Babe." Gabriel sauntered more into the room, earning Bobby's disapproving glare for popping up uninvited.

 

"So, what, you just wanted to drop by and offer some holy advice about nephilim?" Bobby asked. "Because so far you've given us squat." Gabriel scoffed.

 

"I came because Sam told me he was here." Gabriel drummed his hands on Bobby's desk as he walked by and snatched one of the fortune cookies from the Chinese bag. "And just because I haven't hand fed you information, doesn't mean I've been sitting on my thumbs. You bunch have caused me nothing but trouble and I've already cleaned up three of your messes this week." Gabriel plopped down in Sam's seat on the couch and pulled open the plastic. Nemamiah watched Gabriel and smiled lightly when Gabriel offered her a piece of cookie from his package. She attempted to grab it with her chopsticks, "Two of them I blame on Sam." Sam rolled his eyes as he walked more into the room from the kitchen. Nemamiah managed to pop the piece of cookie in her mouth before it fell into her lap.

 

"You're in my seat," was Sam's only response. Bobby just leered at the archangel as he took a swig of his drink and Dean was eying Gabriel with unease; but really, Gabriel was the reason they'd gotten away from 3 angels.

 

"Feel free to sit back down any time, Sam." Gabriel grinned and patted his knee. Sam's face darkened with a blush and took a seat near Bobby's desk and ignored looks from Bobby and Dean. "Spoil sport." Gabriel leaned back in the seat, popping fortune cookie into his mouth.

 

"So you roasted a few angels and Heaven is scrambling to find Miah?" Dean asked, remembering how Michael had done it without a second look to Anna. Dean looked at Nemamiah, who was pretty messy eater for an angel. He guessed that neatness was taught and not natural to angels... or maybe that was his half of the gene pool.

 

"I didn't 'roast' any angels," Gabriel scoffed. "I'm not going to kill a few brothers just as a distraction; besides the fact that it would be suspicious as hell. I do have non-lethal methods. I just altered their perception. You know, their memories."

 

"You can do that to an angel?" Bobby asked.

 

"It's not as easy as with a human, but yeah. Magic fingers and a few mind blocks, they completely forgot what she even looks like. Or that she's a nephilim. Not to mention my precious, charming face." Gabriel preened and offered Nemamiah another chunk of cookie. Nemamiah popped it into her mouth with the sticks, finding the lighter pieces of food easier to pick up.

 

"How do you know so much about nephilim?" Dean asked; because Gabriel acted like the know-it-all in TV Land and never explained himself. Gabriel rolled his eyes at Dean.

 

"What part of arch _angel_ did you not understand with our last meeting?" Gabriel gestured with his whole hand to himself, "I've been through my fair share of severance since dropping out of Cloud Sunday School." He ignored the adults' startled expressions and Gabriel tugged on Nemamiah's half splayed wings. "Sweets, you got to keep these tucked, you're going to get them pinched."

 

"Okay." She folded both wings to her back and slowly closed the Chinese carton as she'd seen Sam do.

 

"You... have kids?" Sam took a deep breath so Dean guessed Sam hadn't been let in on that detail either. Gabriel chuckled.

 

"Well, duh, you would sort of know of them." Gabriel waved his hand nonchalantly. "All those legends of Loki are mine. Still, it was a pain to deal with severance when ever it came by. Couldn't exactly let a bunch of new angels pop out of me. So, got it on with a few very enthusiastic..."

 

"No details." Dean interrupted, gesturing to Nemamiah, who was listening intently. She was just born yesterday and Dean did not want to talk about birds or bees just yet. 

 

Gabriel paused then shrugged. "You know them; my kids. Fenrir, Jormungandr, Hel. They're always the popular ones." Gabriel started holding up fingers and counting them off, "Then of course Sleipnir, Vali, Narfi, Eisa, Einmyria, Festa..." Sam held up his hands.

 

"You're trying to say that they're all nephilim?" Sam stared hard at Gabriel.

 

"Well most of them aren't human and angel." Gabriel shrugged and tickled Nemamiah's side, who giggled and slapped away his hands. "Not like this little cabbage patch kid right here." Nemamiah scooted from Gabriel's wiggly fingers and into Dean's lap, wings rustling and flapping, causing a breeze in the room. Dean was startled but moved his food out of the way so a wayward wing didn't knock into it. "You know, you and Castiel made one handsome kid there."

 

"Thanks, I think," Dean replied warily and steadied one wing with a hand and the other followed suit. Who knew nephilim were ticklish?

 

"Most of my kids are jotunn and angel," Gabriel said with clear pride as he leaned heavily on one arm of the couch. "And all nephilim naturally have things that set them apart from actual humans; or jotunn. For example, the wings." He pointed and Nemamiah's wings lifted in curiously. "They can be hidden of course; like all angel wings. But it takes practice."

 

"So, could you teach her?" Sam asked hopefully.

 

"Yeah, but it's not my job," Gabriel said around another bit of cookie. "That's Castiel's job. Grace or not, he can still teach her things." He unfolded the little paper inside from the cookie and looked at it. " _'A feather in the hand is better than a bird in the air'_... What does that even mean?" Gabriel muttered and chewed the rest of the cookie he'd stuck in his mouth, dropping the paper on the floor. "Feathers belong on wings..."

 

"Aren't your _kids_ supposed to start Ragnarok?" Bobby asked, frowning at the paper that had been dropped so carelessly. "You know, the Norse Apocalypse."

 

"Oh please, there are several apocalypses," Gabriel said with the roll of his eyes. "Just depends on which one happens first. And really, Odin just said most of that Ragnarok stuff because he's a sore old goat who's a closet bisexual. And he was upset that I outed him at a party." Gabriel shrugged. "So of course he complains to the scholars of time time, banishes my kids, and whines that they'll be the end of the world just because Thor got a couple booboos when he was being a pompous prick. So of course my boys get labeled the bullies when they're perfectly good kids."

 

"Good kids?" Sam sounded skeptic and Gabriel rolled his eyes, hand waving jauntily.

 

"Okay, for the record, I was pissed when I said Fenrir could eat Odin. But only because he said Jormy would eat the entire planet out of house and home. But as long as whales are bigger than people, no one has anything to worry about. And Hel minds her own business in Neflhiem."

 

"You mean, the Norse Hell exists?" Bobby asked, as though surprised. Dean just sat back and watched. He was not as caught up with Norse Mythology as Bobby or Sam was. He was still stuck on the fact that Gabriel, of all angels, was a dad.

 

"Oh Hella yes. Hel and Crowley argue about it all the time..." Gabriel folded his hands behind his head.

 

"You know Crowley?" Dean snapped to attention.

 

"Only through Hel." Gabriel paused, rethinking his words. "My daughter Hel, not the place Hell. Never been. Saw the lay out though..." Sam held his head, as though gaining a headache. Gabriel was just laid back, like this was normal and not the weird, twisted version of history they'd heard. Gabriel looked to Nemamiah, who was listening intently to his words from Dean's lap. "FYI, Sweets. Call me Uncle Loki instead of Gabriel." Nemamiah nodded.

 

"Okay." she said easily, taking everything in stride.

 

"So... she's got angel powers, right?" Dean asked and Nemamiah looked up at him and he eyed her. "Don't ya?" She tilted her head, looked at the ceiling, and then after a moment, her head straightened and she looked back at Dean. 

 

"I don't know," she determined. Dean deflated.

 

"I thought you knew _angel stuff,_ " Dean said.

 

"I know what father has shown me." Nemamiah lifted her chin up. "We have not covered _angel stuff_."

 

"Well you can fly," Dean pointed out.

 

"Yes," she agreed, wings unfolding gently from her back. "Father pushed me."

 

"Pushed you?" Dean asked, not remembering any shoving and Castiel had been pretty down for the count.

 

"Yes, because I've never done it before." Her wings dipped left, then right, as though remembering a pattern in the air. "He used his grace to lift me... but then he passed out once we were over head."

 

"Well the split will do that to anyone." Gabriel slid from his seat to where Sam sat. He leaned against Bobby's desk, giving Sam a sly grin. "By the way, I want to steal you for a bit."

 

"Now?" Sam asked uneasily.

 

"You still owe me a date," Gabriel stated. "And since everyone is batting down for the night, I figured, why not go out?" Sam stared at Gabriel, and then his eyes flickered around the room, grimacing as he felt everyone's eyes on him.

 

"I guess... I mean..." Sam looked at Dean more, wanting to make sure Dean wasn't going to throw a fit. Dean leered at Gabriel, who was just looking around, waiting for an answer. Dean rubbed his temples with one hand and then waved his other in the air.

 

"Just go. Just don't go getting my brother killed," Dean relented and Sam pursed his lips, trying to hide how pleased he was.

 

"Momma-Dean said yes." Gabriel grinned at Sam and put a hand on Sam's, which was on the arm of the chair. "Let's skedaddle before he changes his mind." And with a snap of his fingers, they vanished. Dean glared at the lingering area were they'd been and he looked at Nemamiah.

 

"If you start flying off somewhere, at least say good bye, got it?" Dean told her and she nodded.

 

"Okay." She looked at the TV and nodded her head at it, the set turning on to the nearest animal show and she looked back at Dean. "Big Cat Diaries is on." 

 

Dean smiled at her and ruffled her hair. "Okay, Kiddo. You enjoy. Scoot over."

 

Nemamiah slid back down into the couch next to Dean and was content to watch the cheetahs running around the Sahara. 

 

"You trust that angel with Sam?" Bobby asked warily and Dean gave Bobby a strained look.

 

"No, but apparently they've been together for a while, so what the hell?" Dean said shaking his head. “And damn it, I can't remember seeing him this happy before.” Dean's cell phone buzzed in his pocket and he answered it, finding a text from Sam.

 

Sam:

>> [Gabe says check the yard for a present.]

 

“Oh great, what the hell could that be?” Dean muttered and got up to look to see what Gabriel had left in the junk yard. He opened the door to Bobby's porch and stepped out, looking around. There was the usual piles of junked cars. Then he realized, the gleaming black paint of a 1967 Impala was parked neatly by the side of the house. Dean swelled up, “Holy shit, he brought my baby back!”

 

Bobby just looked at the TV and paused in thought hard for a moment as Nemamiah sat back to enjoy the program on a full stomach. “I'm still wonderin' how you're getting' anything past channel 20.” He only had basic cable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loki's kids were researched and found as thus.  
> Fenrir, Jormungand, Hel; from his giantess mistress Angrboda  
> Sleipnir; the sire was the stallion Svadilfar.  
> Vali, Narfi; The giant goddess wife Sigyn   
> Eisa, Einmyria; A Giantess called Glut   
> Troll-girl Festa; Loki ate the heart of "Gullveig-the witch" (couldn't find a name for her, so I chose Festa, which means heart [fasten; strength; learn my heart; bite; take effect on] in Norse)


	31. Better Late Than Never

Gabriel whisked Sam away from Bobby's and Sam found himself somewhere familiar; like home. It was the Impala. They were both in the back seat. Gabriel tucked his arms behind his head and smiled easily at Sam.

 

“By the way, look what I found 500 miles away.” Gabriel tapped the front seat with the toe of his shoe. Sam sat back, a smile eased onto his face.

 

“We're not making out here if that's what you were hoping,” Sam said after a nice moment. There was the barn where Sam remembered they'd stopped several weeks ago to prep it for Nemamiah's arrival. Gabriel looked around, as though Sam could POSSIBLY be speaking to anyone else.

 

“ _Moi_? As if I could ever suggest such a thing.” Gabriel feigned surprise but the little smile at the end told he was feeling anything but offense. Sam rolled over and leaned over, kissing Gabriel's cheek with marksman precision. Gabriel's smile widened. “I did mean a date-date, but if you're going to bring ideas like that up, I'll reconsider.”

 

“No, I'd like the date.” Sam hadn't been on an actual date in years. Not since Sarah at that fancy restaurant. 

 

“Alright, pick any place in the world.” Gabriel tilted his head back. “France, Japan, Canada; anywhere. Sky is the limit. Hell, I could make a pocket of time, bring back a century or two. My memory is really good. Maybe Rome in the height of it's success? I could even introduce you to some people, huh? Abraham Lincoln? Albert Einstein? Gandhi?” As much as meeting Gandhi was tempting, Sam thought it was too much. None of them he would really think of as date-worthy. Finally, Sam slid closer to Gabriel, hip to hip, arm to shoulder. 

 

“How about the nearest diner with a good salad bar?” Sam suggested. Gabriel eyed him, a look of disbelief flattening his always-smile. 

 

“The nearest?” Gabriel replied. “I did say anywhere. I got wings you know. We'd be there in literally a snap.” Sam shrugged. “I have almost infinite power and you want to go to a salad bar?”

 

“Gabriel.” Sam pressed a kiss to the archangel's hair and Gabriel unfolded his arms from behind his head, craning his neck back slightly to catch eyes with Sam. “It doesn't matter where we go for a date as long as it's you and me.” Gabriel stared for a moment, his one arm laying along the back seat of the car, along Sam's shoulders; in a moment of rare, awed silence. Sam took the opportunity to land a kiss on Gabriel's mouth and Gabriel's lips curled against his in a grin.

 

“You're such a sweet talker.” Gabriel brushed his fingers through the hair on the back of Sam's head affectionately. Sam smiled in return.

 

“And I think you would get brownie points from Dean if you put the Impala in Bobby's lot,” Sam hinted.

 

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “I really don't care what your brother thinks of me.”

 

“Well, no, but he might not be such a party pooper when you're around.” Sam curled into Gabriel more, his hand cupping Gabriel's neck as he leaned over the archangel more. Gabriel pondered on that a moment.

 

“Okay, you get that favor. Are you sure you don't want to make out in the back seat first?” Gabriel asked, leaning into Sam's closeness.

 

“I thought you wanted a real date,” Sam reminded him.

 

“You have looked in a mirror recently, haven't you?” Gabriel asked and Sam tossed his hair back to it was out of his face.

 

“Date first,” Sam said, placing a kiss on Gabriel's nose. “And if it goes well, you can fly us back to your place.” Which Gabriel always had since they had started this relationship. Gabriel smirked.

 

“Cute. _If_ it goes well.” Gabriel snapped his fingers.

 

Sam found himself sitting at a table at a restaurant. They were seated at a two person table, the lights were dim and it looked like a home town bar/grill kind of place. Sam glanced at Gabriel to get his bearings. Sam missed the closeness they had in the Impala, and had not expected the sudden advantage of already being at a table. 

 

“You don't think people will think it's weird we just appeared here?” Sam whispered as Gabriel was glancing around at all the decorations of sports memorabilia and instruments. Gabriel faced Sam in his seat with that easy smile.

 

“Relax, the hostess remembers she seated people here and we haven't met our waitress yet.” Gabriel turned over the menu that was on the table, and of course, he was checking out the desert section. Sam was pretty satisfied after eating Chinese, but having a light salad would be nice if it meant he got to talk to Gabriel; alone time without Dean or Bobby's eyes judging him. Sam leaned his elbows on the table and looked at the flickering candle that was off to the side, near the window that showed the busy street in the dimly lit night sky.

 

“We've never been on a real date before,” Sam mentioned lightly.

 

“Nope.” Gabriel raised his eyes over the menu, sympathetic. “It was never really part of the deal we had going earlier. I heard that you're supposed to talk on these things.” Gabriel raised his eyebrows and Sam smiled lightly as their waitress came by and took their orders. After she'd gone Sam sent his brother a text to know that he was alright, and that he should have a present outside. Sam rested his hands on the table.

 

“So, you have kids?” Sam stated after a deep exhale. It was so... odd to think of Gabriel -archangel and Trickster- as a father. He just seemed... Well, to be a bit immature himself. So, Sam really couldn't really guess on how active he was as a dad. Gabriel clicked his tongue and stirred the hot chocolate he'd ordered with a spoon and the whip cream slowly dissolved into the warm mixture.

 

“Yup, nine-teen in total,” Gabriel spoke somberly. “But currently, there are only six.” Sam straightened up a little.

 

“Six?” Sam asked. It was a very drastic change in numbers. “Why only Six?” Gabriel managed a grim smile.

 

“Well Sam, 11 millennia pass and people tend to die. Nephilim aren't as immortal as angels.” Gabriel lifted his head. “But six still live. Fenrir, Jormy, Hel, Sleipnir, and Vali.” Gabriel nodded. “Those are the ones that are strong and still thriving.” Sam took a deep breath allowing a moment of silence to pass. “Oh Sam, come on, don't focus on the death, you're going to make this date all gloomy.” Sam took another deep breath in, he couldn't help it. But then he thought over the names.

 

“That's only five.” Sam said and Gabriel paused.

 

“Well, I can only assume that one is alive since I don't know him.” Gabriel lifted his mug. “He was the last angel I split before I hopped a greyhound bus out of Heaven.”

 

“What do you mean... you don't know?” Sam frowned and Gabriel sighed.

 

“This is not exactly the conversation I thought we'd talk about.” Gabriel drank his cocoa.

 

“If you don't want to talk about it, it's okay,” Sam said, not wanting the conversation make either of them uncomfortable. Gabriel tapped the mug with a finger, looking at Sam.

 

“I'm going to give you a run down of how heaven works.” Gabriel set his mug down and Sam looked to his tea, which was done steeping and he lifted the bag from the mug. He nodded for Gabriel to continue. “God made us archangels. Michael, Lucifer, Me, and Raphael. He told us we can have our own children. Michael was first to split, then Lucifer, then me...” Gabriel paused. “And Raphael.” Sam had not witnessed much pain in Gabriel. Most things were like water off a duck's back. Sam guessed that's why he didn't think Gabriel would care if he went with Ruby. Gabriel was very good at shirking off what he really felt. The hurt he saw the day Sam left with Ruby was clear and new. But at the table, it seemed to be an old scar rearing its head. And since Gabriel was in his self proclaimed witness protection, he doubted Gabriel talked about Heaven much.

 

“So you had an angel?” Sam prompted. A slow smile crept onto Gabriel's face; like a distant memory coming into focus. 

 

“A couple, actually. My first was Haniel. Angel of Joy; believe it or not.” Gabriel smiled warmly. “My first split. Pure angel. All the archangels had angels. Haniel was curious and liked to play. Really a hand full...” Gabriel took a deep breath, focusing himself. “Long story short. God made humans since we were pretty self sufficient. Lucifer and Michael had a big pissing contest. They fought. Raphael's first, Chamuel, Angel of Peaceful Relationships -”Gabriel swept his hand over the table. “Burnt right into the ground.” Sam sat up a bit straighter, surprised.

 

“Lucifer?” Sam asked.

 

“No one knows who did it.” Gabriel shrugged. “Could have been either of those dicks, they just pointed the finger at one another. Raphael lost it though. Said he couldn't bare to have another and lose it too. But well, severance is on a clock you see. You don't get a choice.” Gabriel took in a deep breath. “But Michael, he found a way to stop it. Put it on hold. How ever you say it. He flipped the breeding on/off switch. So, Raphael got his switch turned off and Michael institutionalized the severance law. 'All angels will be split and their father shall only be God'. So, we had brothers instead of children.” Sam frowned.

 

“That's... that's insane.” Sam remembered Castiel during his severance. He was quiet in the beginning when he was in Heaven, almost shunning his own unborn angel. “Children should know their parents.”

 

“A bit insane, yeah,” Gabriel agreed eyes drifting off into the distance. “ I had my second and well... I had no clue who he was. Never saw him. Michael never flipped my switch, I didn't let him.” Gabriel looked at Sam, looking steeled for a moment, with a memory that was unpleasant. “Then Lucifer and Michael had their real fight; after he turned that human Lilith into a demon. Angels died fighting, and well, I refused to fight. But... I found Haniel...” It took a moment for Gabriel to continue and Sam let him have the time to do it. “Haniel had fought and he died doing it. And that was it, I couldn't take it anymore. I fled.” Gabriel smiled bitterly but it didn't stay long. The fake smile melted away. He huffed, looking down. “Such a stupid fight...” Sam rested a hand on Gabriel's wrist and Gabriel lifted his eyes up from his mug.

 

“Is that why you left?” Sam asked. “The breaking point?” Gabriel's shoulders slumped and he turned his wrist so he could hold Sam's hand in his.

 

“Yeah,” he admitted. “Not something I wanted to say to your bro in the warehouse, y'know?” Sam smiled a little.

 

“Yeah.” Sam nodded. As sad as the memory had to be for Gabriel, Sam felt he understood Gabriel a little more. “So, Fenrir?” Gabriel smiled a little more familiarly. A bit more proudly.

 

“My first split on Earth you know. He's a wolf, strongest there is.” Gabriel grinned. “Angrboda was just the sassiest jotunness in Jotenhiem.” Sam thought back on his Norse Mythology.

 

“Wasn't Angrboda a woman though...” Sam wasn't sure how severance worked with Gabriel being a man. Gabriel chuckled.

 

“Doesn't have to work like Dean and Castiel. An angel in a male vessel may get energy from a woman by sleeping with her. It's not really the DNA, per-say. Sex is a very large energy exchange. And to the grace, it's as good as fertilization.” Gabriel shrugged and his fingers started playing along Sam's knuckles. “Think of it as, salmon spawning. Salmon ladies make the eggs, and if they're fertilized, viola`, nephilim. If not fertilized, pure angel.” 

 

Their waitress came by and Sam flushed, because their hands were still connected. However, Gabriel didn't let Sam slide his hand away like he wanted to. Sam was still unsteady about showing his affection to men in public. The waitress seemed surprised, but she set down Sam's salad before him and Gabriel's fruit tart before him. When Gabriel told her they didn't need anything else she nodded and walked away.

 

“Date-date,” Gabriel reminded and Sam let out a slow breath. “Still got one foot in the closet, huh?”

 

“I don't exactly advertise,” Sam muttered. 

 

Gabriel gave a wry smile. “How did you manage to get through college without sampling anything. Seriously?”

 

“I met Jess.” Sam's throat tightened. Gabriel nodded slowly.

 

“You still haven't told me about Jess.”

 

“I don't like to talk about it.”

 

“I spilled my sob story, I do want to hear yours.” Gabriel eyed Sam. “You said the last person you felt for like this burst into fire.”

 

Sam pursed his lips for a moment. It was still painful and somehow still felt fresh. “Later, please? I just... don't want the off chance of crying on the first date.” Gabriel relented with a nod.

 

“That would be awkward,” Gabriel agreed. “So, why a lawyer?” Sam's mouth tugged into a smile.

 

They talked about happier things after that, nibbling at their chosen items. The Apocalypse was not allowed to be spoken of, as were hunting or heaven, but talking about movies and people were nice enough. And holding hands felt right while Gabriel occasionally turned the ring on Sam's hand and pressed his legs against Sam's. Sam smiled warmly, wanting to saver the rare peace. Sam thought lingeringly, he wanted to get used to it.


	32. Headaches and Heartaches

Dean peeked into Bobby's bed room that night, checking in on Castiel. The man had cocooned himself at one point. Dean shuffled over and he patted where he guessed Castiel's shoulder was. "Hey. It's been a few hours. How are you feeling?"

 

Castiel hummed and rolled over, looking blearily up at Dean. "Hours?" he finally registered and Dean nodded. Castiel's eyes blinked rapidly, fighting to stay awake.

 

"Yeah. Miah went down and ate already. Do you want anything?" Dean noted how much messier Castiel's hair was and how his eyes were a dark blue in the lamp light.

 

“Yes.” Castiel pushed the covers down and slid to the edge of the bed gingerly. He pulled the shoulders of his clothes since they had rolled tighter around him as he slept. 

 

“Hope you like beef stir-fry.” Dean watched Castiel organize and push himself to his feet. He seemed unsteady, but waved Dean off when Dean's hands were poised to help. Castiel managed to put his trench coat on by himself, so that was a plus.

 

“Nemamiah is well?” Castiel inquired, taking slow steps towards the door.

 

“Yeah, she's a peach.” Dean followed, resting a hand against Castiel's back.

 

“In what way is she a fruit?” Castiel cocked his head at Dean, perplexed. Dean took a deep breath, but a wry smile was on his face.

 

“She's a sweet kid.” Dean made it to the stairs first, watching Castiel taking his steady steps and gripping the railing firmly as they descended. “A little too smart for her age if you ask me. What, 20 hours old? She definitely doesn't look it.”

 

“She is not full grown because she's not full angel,” Castiel mused. “Perhaps her body is the result of humans starting so young and a newly fledged angel's grace.” Castiel looked at his own hand when he reached the bottom steps. “Being physical is... very different than being myself.” Dean stopped there with him as Castiel looked at his own hand and then traced a line on his palm with a finger. Dean stepped closer, resting a hand on Castiel's shoulder.

 

"You're going to be fine," Dean assured him. "We'll eat and rest up, then tomorrow, we'll go and get Miah some real clothes. She can't go running around in Sam's shirt forever." Castiel sighed slowly and his eyes lifted to meet Dean's. Dean could tell then; it was all gone. Every last trace of grace was gone from Castiel. Like Anna and like Jimmy. Like the future Castiel he remembered; though with less mileage and less drugs. He was human and Castiel was less than thrilled about it. Dean leaned in, catching Castiel's lips against his. Castiel took in a deep breath against his lips and some tension drained from him. It was still familiar; Dean was relieved that it was still warm and welcomed. 

 

A rumble that was much different from the vibration of Nemamiah erupted from Castiel's flat stomach and Castiel's eyes opened from the kiss. His face was formed into a grimace and he leaned heavily on Dean. "I'm famished," he proclaimed.

 

"Yeah, I can tell," Dean said and steered Castiel into the library area. Nememiah was sitting in the center of the couch and an animal documentary on crocodiles was playing. Bobby had actually rolled his wheelchair over to the couch and was watching it with her; as Dean had been there only a few minutes before. Nemamiah sat up straighter when Castiel came in and her wings lifted behind her. Despite Castiel's hunger, which had been gnawing at him for nearly two days, he went over and took up the spot next to her; moving slowly since his body still ached. Nemamiah smiled widely at him and pointed to the TV.

 

“The water buffalo is going to get eaten,” she announced and Castiel pet her short hair fondly, resting his eyes for a moment since he was back with his daughter, “by the crocodiles.”

 

“Yes, the crocodiles need to eat, and the migration time is the best time to feed,” Castiel informed her as Dean headed to the kitchen to grab some of the uneaten Chinese. “How are you feeling?”

 

“Good,” she said with a smile. “Bobby's really nice. He explains a lot that's on the TV.” Nice wasn't often a word used to describe Bobby. Surly, maybe. Grumpy, most of the time. And most definitely paranoid. 

 

“It wasn't a big deal,” Bobby muttered, scratching his beard and trying to brush off the girl's kind comment. “She's a curious kid.”

 

“She is a tribute to her namesake,” Castiel said with a fondness unheard of before. 

 

“Father, I learned to use chopsticks.” Nemamiah lifted her head proudly. “And I ate sweet and sour chicken. It was good.”

 

“Made a damn mess of herself too,” Bobby noted and Castiel saw the spots of orange sauce stained on the gray t-shirt. Her face and hands were clean because Dean had taken a wet paper towel to her face. Castiel tugged on a section of it before he nodded.

 

“Dean is right, you require extra clothing,” Castiel noted.

 

“Dad says that a lot,” Nemamiah said.

 

“I'm sure he has.” Castiel knew Dean commented on lack of clothing constantly while Castiel was in need of them. “None of our clothes will fit you.”

 

“You're all too big,” Nemamiah informed him and Dean walked in with a couple cartons of microwaved Chinese food. 

 

“Maybe you're too small, half pint.” Dean handed Castiel the cartons and the smell of food made Castiel's mouth water. He took them gratefully and opened them both, finding the stir fry and the other white rice.

 

“No, you're all too big,” she corrected, her wings lifting behind her and feathers fluffing, as though they made her bigger. Dean patted one of them and they neatly folded back.

 

“Don't go puffing those out just because you're still a kid.” Dean had the bag of remaining egg rolls in hand and Nemamiah fixated on them.

 

“Dean is right.” Castiel dug his fork into the carton of stir fry and popped the first bite into his mouth with a sound of satisfaction. Nemamiah's wings folded to her back at Castiel's confirmation.

 

“I am?” Dean raised his brows and sat on the other side of the couch, Nemamiah between them. Castiel chewed and swallowed.

 

“Displaying your wings thus is a display of intimidation and it is rather rude.” Castiel put the second loaded fork into his mouth, his appetite taking over.

 

“Oh. That's a thing?” Dean didn't appear aware of it and Castiel didn't really expect Dean to understand the fine intricacies that wings communicated. 

 

“Sorry,” Nemamiah said lowly, sounding sincere.

 

“Ah, it's alright,” Dean said and waved an egg roll in front of her. “Egg roll?” Her face lit up again and she took it.

 

“Yes.” She popped one end into her mouth. A phone in the kitchen rang and Bobby rolled towards it, because it was his job to go answer the phones to get some hunter out of trouble.

 

Castiel did not so much as eat as he did swallow his stir-fry. The food was salty and drenched in grease, but it felt good as it made its way down to his belly. He never wanted to experience hunger like that again. Unfortunately eating too fast made him start coughing and Dean leaned over Nemamiah to hand him an already open beer. He thumped his palm on Castiel's sore backside, but it did help the lump of food dislodge and go down. Castiel breathed and quickly drank a couple mouthfuls of the luke-warm beer.

 

“Easy on the food,” Dean said. Castiel sighed, forcing himself to pause. His body wanted to stuff itself on instinct, to make sure there was enough food to function on. He was not sure if he could resist the temptation once he could easily eat again.

 

“Father, you should eat slower,” Nemamiah advised and Castiel smiled lightly.

 

“Nemamiah, may you never feel the starvation of several days.” Castiel set the bottle down and started to eat again, but this time slower and making sure to chew each bite. Dean nodded sympathetically.

 

“Yeah, it sucks.” Dean chewed on an egg roll and tucked it into his cheek, watching as Castiel started scooping rice into the stir fry carton; Dean had taught him that trick weeks ago. “So, since we're going shopping tomorrow, you can hide her wings, right?” Castiel paused in his conquest to fill his stomach and looked at Nemamiah, whose wings lifted innocently at their mention. “Gabriel said you could.”

 

“I believe so, yes,” Castiel said thoughtfully, gazing at the physical manifestation of wings. “Wing manipulation in general, yes, I believe she is able to tuck them.” Castiel took one last bite from the carton before setting the food aside and he wiped his hands on his dubbed ugly-yoga-pants. He gestured for Nemamiah and she slid from her seat to stand in front of Castiel, like earlier that day. Castiel turned her by gently pushing her shoulder and his hand cupped the wrist of the wing, inspecting the limb. Castiel could still feel things, even without his grace, but his eyes did not see very well in the normal human light spectrum, nor could he easily hear all the signals of sound. But he could tell that Nemamiah was not all physically human. There was an ethereal hum to her, much like the way she'd been attached to him only days ago. His fingers slid along the feathers, remembering his own briefly. He was all too aware of the lightness on his back now.

 

“Yes,” Castiel repeated, assuring himself more than Dean. He was still gathering his wits from earlier. Castiel pressed the joint of the wing so it stretched out gracefully. The wings were still dusted with the soft fluffy feathers; some of which littered Bobby's house in black specks. Nemamiah was not bothered with her father's touch on her wing. “These wings are infused with grace. She should be able to tuck them.” He brushed over the baby feathers, which he'd never seen on an angel before. He brushed away some of the loose ones and Nemamiah's wing twitched under his hands.

 

“Father,” Nemamiah said in whine and Dean smiled as he watched the process. 

 

“You have the adolescent feathers of a bird.” Castiel released her wings from his hands and turned her so he could give him a warm smile. “And you flew us so far.” It came out much more awed and proud, but that was fine because this was his daughter.

 

“I did good?” Her face lit up and she straightened with a smile.

 

“You did beyond what you were able,” Castiel praised and the smile turned into her first grin. Castiel mused that she looked so much like Dean then.

 

“Well you did haul our asses out of there.” Dean put in his own praise, moving closer on the couch next to Castiel. “And just after being born. Hell of a feat.” Nemamiah puffed out her chest and lifted her head proudly. Dean looked over at Castiel, who glanced over at Dean. “So, her having wings and feathers aren't abnormal for angels?”

 

“Angels are split fully fledged,” Castiel explained. “We are normally celestial energy, but they can be manifested in a vessel as wings that resemble birds'.” 

 

Dean inclined his head slightly to the side, surprised. “So you have the whole shebang? Wings and feathers? They aren't just a light show?”

 

Castiel grimaced a bit. “I had wings. I never manifested them. There was no need to. But well... they faded with the last of my grace. They are but a memory. Phantom limbs, if you will.” Castiel ran a nostalgic hand through Nemamiah's feathers and his daughter gave him a mix of sadness and confusion, as though she could not comprehend such a loss. Which was understandable since Castiel could not remember a day where he wondered what it would be like to be wingless. Castiel gave her a fond smile anyway, pushing away those thoughts. ”They are now Nemamiah's. And I can not think of a better place for them.” Nemamiah's wing pressed back against his hand in a way that was meant to be soothing and Dean rested a hand on Castiel's shoulder in his own sympathetic way. Castiel straightened himself, clearing his throat. “Nemamiah, for your own safety, you should keep your wings tucked to appear human.”

 

Nemamiah nodded. “Okay. How do I do that?” Castiel gathered the thoughts together, the ones he's acquired from centuries of practice and he touched his daughter's forehead. For knowledge humans had no words for, he pressed the thoughts to her, as he had been taught before. 

 

Nemamiah was still an entity of grace so she could receive his thoughts, but since he'd awoken and started transferring knowledge, a steady headache had grown every time he pressed forward his experiences from his existence. This time it was a sharp crack of pain to his eyes and he shut them tight for a moment. He opened them slowly as Nemamiah's eyes closed in turn. She stood straighter and her wings started to fade, like a drop of ink in water. They shimmered and then dispersed into nothingness. Even the shirt collar that had been stretched fell slack against her back. Nemamiah breathed and opened her eyes. Dean moved hesitantly reaching out and waving his hand where her wings had been before, as though he'd seen an illusion. Nemamiah looked up and around before looking back and crinkling her nose at Castiel.

 

“They're cramped,” she stated.

 

“Well, you're not pure celestial intent so I suppose putting them in a separate plane of existence would be a tight squeeze,” Castiel agreed, ignoring the pain above and behind his eyes. “You can have them out when it's me, Dean, Sam, and Bobby. But tuck them if there is anyone else.” Nemamiah looked up in thought.

 

“What about Uncle Loki?” She asked.

 

“Uncle Loki?” Castiel's head tilted to the side, brows furrowing.

 

“Gabriel,” Dean answered and Castiel slowly nodded his head.

 

“Ah, yes. I suppose since Gabriel already knows,” Castiel replied warily. Being trapped in TV Land on a horror movie while in severance did not immediately instill trust in the archangel. Even if Gabriel had been the one to hide Nemamiah from Heaven's collectors. and for that, Gabriel received leniency.

 

“Uncle Loki has children too.” Nemamiah placed her hand on Castiel's knee, lifting herself a little taller on her toes. “Does that mean I have cousins?” Castiel's mouth fell open in surprise. 

 

“Gabriel has children?” Castiel inquired and glanced at Dean. Dean nodded.

 

“He popped in earlier. Apparently he can't keep it in his pants and all of of those monsters from the god Loki are nephilim too.” Dean gave the short handed version. Castiel thought on this. He'd never considered that Gabriel hid himself by turning his brood into angel and beast hybrids. It was tactical cunning for hiding, but it gave Castiel an uneasy feeling. Castiel studied Dean's half laid back expression. It had never been Castiel's intent to create a nephilim with the man, but he did not feel too guilty; as he was sure he should be more ashamed if he was in Heaven. Nemamiah had her own flesh and blood and her soul was new and radiant. He could feel that and he still felt no regrets for their night together.

 

“I suppose they would share some sort of kinship. You are all of angel decent.” Castiel was filled with conflicting thoughts. Gabriel was a loose cannon and the beasts of Loki had even been heard of in Heaven; monsters, as the rest were. To be smote on sight.

 

“I'd like to know that those kids won't eat us,” Dean folded his arms, “before we start calling them family.”

 

“Okay,” Nemamiah agreed slowly. Dean glanced at Castiel. 

 

“Gabriel's already too comfortable zapping Sam off to who knows where,” Dean commented begrudgingly.

 

“Sam is with Gabriel?” Castiel asked warily and he sat back, taking up his carton of food.

 

“Yeah, they're officially... together. Like a couple,” Dean said a tad awkwardly.

 

There was a moment of heavy silence. Couple; that human term of oneness between two people. That period of claiming an emotional, and usually sexual, mate. Whether that had been accomplished between Castiel and Dean was unknown to Castiel. And Dean did not appear eager to bring it up at the moment. However...

 

“Like you and father?” Nemamiah asked Dean.

 

“Uh... well...” Dean's eyes flickered warily between Nemamiah and Castiel. His eyes lingered on Castiel questioningly. Castiel remembered the past few months; the times Dean held him and kissed him. They hadn't talked about it, but there was something there, was there not?

 

“We have been intimate,” Castiel explained to his daughter, “but we have not yet discussed a formal relationship as of yet.” Dean stared at him.

 

“Formal relationship?” Dean repeated. Castiel paused and looked up at Dean, who looked startled. Castiel pursed his lips and Nemamiah looked between them, confused.

 

“Have I... assumed too much?” Castiel had never felt his internal organs drop before, but he found it to be an unpleasant experience. Dean shifted, expression telling of discomfort.

 

“Look. It's been a long day,” Dean said. “Let's talk about it another time, huh? We should get some sleep.”

 

Castiel let out a soft breath and finished his meal in a few more bites. His body still ached and the headache above his eyes was growing steadily sharper. He was not in any condition to think upon all the moments of touch and kisses with Dean and think there was nothing there. But to think Dean didn't want something formal, something as traditional as being with Castiel... Castiel had never felt such despair, and he tried to brush it off from his mind. He and Dean had not even discussed it yet. He should not be hurt by the thought of Dean not being his. But that thought pained him more than the split itself.

 

Bobby bid them all a gruff good night before they headed upstairs and a reminder “that bed is for sleepin' in only”. Castiel caught Dean making an amusing face of embarrassment, but spitefully did not pity Dean for it. They headed upstairs and once back in Bobby's room, Nemamiah's wings faded back into existence from sub-space. They lifted and gave a helpful half-flap as she crawled into bed. Castiel climbed back into his spot and Dean took the other side.

 

“Easy with the wings, Miah,” Dean warned as Nemamiah amused her spot in the middle. Dean shed his jacket for minimum sleeping comfort but Castiel didn't remove his trench coat this time; he felt chilled. 

 

“Okay.” Nemamiah folded them against her back and when Castiel was settled, Nemamiah rolled back the covers and nestled herself beside him. Dean was the last one in after them after the lights were turned out. Light came in from the Singer Auto Lot, so it was not pitch black in the room. Castiel pressed a kiss to his daughters forehead and curled an arm over top the blankets. Good nights were murmured all around, even by Dean. Castiel closed his eyes, feeling the bed shift as everyone settled in. Castiel felt a warm calloused hand take his. Castiel knew it was Deans; he'd done it several times before the split. It was warm and comforting. But Castiel drew it away and instead, tucked it around and under Nemamiah. Castiel felt selfish. Dean had given him so much affection and helped him keep his daughter. Who was he to ask more from Dean? But still, Dean's apprehension to a formal relationship -to perhaps what Sam and Gabriel had found- drained the happiness. Being a couple sounded like what he wanted with Dean. And if it wasn't what they'd been striving for, why was Dean so loving?

 

Dean's hand slid up Castiel's arm and cupped his elbow. Castiel opened his eyes, finding Dean's in the low light of the room. No expression could really be read but Dean gave him a reassuring squeeze and Castiel closed his eyes again, but his hand lifted, running his knuckles along Dean's forearm, to say it was alright. Dean was letting him know that he wasn't going anywhere.

 

Perhaps Castiel was being selfish. But Dean didn't have to be there. He didn't have to help Castiel keep Nemamiah. Castiel should have been content that Dean was by his side; not his. He should be content with that; but he wasn't. 


	33. Holes in the Picket Fence

Dean smothered a chuckle in his hand as he saw Nemamiah's eyes go wide as they stepped out of the Impala into the parking lot of the local department store. She lifted her arms, taking in the entirety of the building.

 

"It's so big," she said in awe. Nemamiah had been wide eyed since they entered town. Dean assumed she was losing that initial angel stiffness the more she explored the world. Castiel closed his door, approaching Dean and Nemamiah with calm steps. Despite Castiel's long nap the day before, he's still slept 10 more hours before Dean woke him up again with brunch. Nemamiah discovered she liked eggs and bacon and Dean found a strip of leather that he could tie around her waist to make Sam's shirt more like a dress. Crude, but usually people wore clothes before they went clothes shopping.

 

Nemamiah's wings were 'tucked', which had to be an angel term because they were completely gone. Castiel had run a brush through his hair and Nemamiah's. Nemamiah then watched Castiel shave his 3 day beard. Dean mused that he was probably going to have to introduce Castiel to a hair cut; lest he end up with hair like Sam. Castiel held up a piece of scrap paper in one hand and took Nemamiah's hand in the other as as they headed inside. Bobby of course had told them to pick up food if they were going to be at his place for a while. Dean wasn't sure how long they were going to be staying; Sam and him would have to continue hunting once Castiel was back up to snuff. But at the moment, Dean just wanted to focus on some simple shopping.

 

Entering the store, they found the girl's section. "Well Miah, time to get you some real clothes." Dean grimaced a bit at the abundance of pink and baby blue. "See anything you like?" Nemamiah put her fingers to her mouth and started roaming the girl's section. "So..." Dean glanced over at Castiel, who looked back at him, finally looking fully awake. There really hadn't been any conversation since last night. Dean knew Castiel had pulled away from him while they were going to sleep. But... a formal relationship? How was he supposed to take that? Did Castiel want to get hitched? Sure they had a daughter and he liked Castiel, more than he'd been expecting to. But did Castiel really want to be with him? Did Dean want to be with Castiel? Monogamy had never really worked out for Dean before. And well... Did he really want to try it with a man/fallen angel?

 

"Nemamiah will need necessities." Castiel held up the list, jotting down a few human items that he'd needed when he'd stopped using his grace.

 

"Yeah." Dean nodded. "We can do that once we get her into some clothes."

 

"Might I suggest a shopping cart?" Castiel asked, looking to the line of plastic and metal baskets on wheels. Dean raised an eyebrow. He hadn't so much as touched a shipping cart since his dad had taken him and Sam shopping. And Sam had still been small enough to stick in the basket when he was being an annoying brat. Dean suspected Sam actually enjoyed being in the cart because it was Dean's job to push him around. Dean smiled a bit.

 

"Not a bad idea, actually," Dean said and patted Castiel's shoulder before going to get a cart. When he'd returned, so had Nemamiah. And she looked discontent.

 

"I don't see anything I like," she announced.

 

"Oh come on, there's got to be something you like." Dean looked at all the teeny-bop colors and cartoons and grimaced. Nemamiah was a girl. Little girls wore pink and polka-dots and sequins galore, right? They liked that sort of stuff. Nemamiah looked up and picked one of the frilliest pink and white polka-dotted shirts that looked like a half mix of a tu-tu.

 

"Dad, would YOU wear something as dysfunctional and brightly colored like this?" she asked and Dean's grimace deepened with several mish-mashed thoughts; such as: 'No skirts', 'not on a hunt', 'nothing from the little girl's section', and 'godfuckingdamnitNO'.

 

"How about we look in the boy's section?" Dean suggested and that's when they migrated across the isle to the darker and more comfortable colors.

 

Castiel leaned against the cart handle as Nemamiah was picking through the clothes. It took a few tries to size her, but eventually they did. Nemamiah picked out blues and greens. She also found something similar to Sam's plaid shirts, along with a few t-shirts (one had a lion, one had a wolf) and khaki cargo pants that looked suspiciously the same shade of Castiel's trench coat. 

 

"Pockets," Nemamiah pointed out with a grin. Dean smiled.

 

"Don't go stuffing them full of rocks." Dean tossed the clothes into the cart. Sam did that all the time when he was like 6. They'd stop on the road and Sam would pick up a rock and stick it in his pocket. By the end of the week, John would dump Sam's pants out with a sigh was they clunked outside and tell Sam again to stop doing it.

 

"Why would I do that?" Nemamiah quirked her head curiously and Dean shrugged.

 

"Sam used to do it all the time," Dean mentioned. "Come on, you need shoes."

 

To Dean's heart felt amusement, they found light up batman shoes and Nemamiah jumped up and down a bit to show Castiel. Castiel smiled endearingly as he rested upon one of the shoe seats.

 

"Why do they make them light up?" Nemamiah asked, bemused but it did not stop her stomping. "Serves no function at all."

 

"It serves to amuse you, doesn't it?" Castiel asked and Nemamiah paused to think on that and she nodded.

 

"It does," she assessed as Dean tossed kid socks into the cart. 

 

"Aright, let's buy this before we get everything else," Dean said and they headed to the check out. The clerk gave a raised brow to Nemamiah's lack-there-of clothing and Dean tried to ignore it; and the fact that he was using another stolen credit card.

 

"Air ports, man, always losing luggage." Dean complained loudly and swiped the card. His bitterness towards airports must have shown through because the cashier gave an understanding nod and then started to mention his own trip to Texas, where the airport had lost his own bag for a week and his trip was completely ruined.

 

Castiel was leaning heavily on the cart handle and watching Nemamiah pick through the the odds and ends that they stuck next to every register. Dean wasn't sure if Castiel wasn't talking because he was upset with Dean but he could tell for sure that the man still looked exhausted. Dean just hoped the split didn't have any other side effects.

 

After 5 or 10 minutes in the bathroom, Nemamiah was finally dressed in real kid clothes. She wore her new batman shoes, khaki cargo pants (like the crocodile hunter, Nemamiah mentioned) the red shirt with the lion and one of the button down plaid shirts which she left open. Dean was just glad she was finally wearing underwear (Nemamiah had picked out briefs since Dean couldn't convince her to go back into the girl's section).

 

Dean realized she looked more boy than girl, but hell, as long as she was happy with it. Castiel pet Nemamiah's hair once she showed her new outfit to him.

 

"Comfortable?" Castiel asked

 

"Yes." She looked at herself, spinning this way and that. "But there are no place for my wings to come out."

 

"I'm sure we can find something," Castiel said as they started round two of the store.

 

-

 

Once Baby was filled with kid essentials and food, Dean tossed a medication bottle into Castiel's lap as the ex-angel was settled in shot gun. Nemamiah had climbed into the back seat and was sorting through some of the plastic bags. Castiel quirked his head at the orange prescription bottle that read Vicodin and did not read any of the brother's names. "You're still hurting from the split, right?" Dean slid into the driver seat.

 

"I suppose I am." Castiel rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand and gave an effort-like sigh as he sat up. "I'm better than earlier. But the headache is persistent, as does my spine..."

 

"Well take one of those," Dean said as he pulled out of the parking spot. "It'll stop what ever ails ya." Nemamiah climbed over the front seat between them, a bright red delicious apple wedged in her mouth. "Miah, don't climb over the seat while I'm driving."

 

"Okay." Nemamaiah crunched down on the apple and chewed. Castiel dug out one of the pills and took it dry before a thought occurred to Dean.

 

"Doesn't Miah have healing powers?" Dean asked. "I mean, it would get you back up to par." Nemamaiah looked between them and Castiel looked at his daughter.

 

"I was going to wait until I was felling better." Castiel capped the bottle. "It seems transferring knowledge is not natural without grace. Showing her to tuck her wings was barely manageable." Castiel held his head over his brow. "I do believe this is why the headache grew." Dean frowned.

 

"Yeah, I guess that would make it difficult." Dean drove from the lot and ruffled Nemamaiah's hair, gaining her attention. "Guess you'll have to learn things the old fashioned way, kiddo. Trial and error."

 

"Okay." She paused in mid bite of the apple, looking back up at Dean. "How do I do that?"

 

"Well, trying something and if you fail, you try again and fail better next time."

 

"I thought it was try again until you succeed," Castiel said.

 

"Yeah, that too," Dean agreed.

 

They arrived back and by that time Sam was there, looking unfairly content with himself when Dean demanded he help with groceries. Nemamiah happily showed off her new clothes to Sam, who complimented her on her choice of practical clothing.

 

"Where's my shirt?" Sam asked Dean as they were gathering bags to take into Bobby's house.

 

"Tossed it," Dean answered as he placed a couple bags into Sam's hands. Sam sighed. "Wasn't like you were going to wear it again." 

 

"But it was _my_ shirt," Sam protested. "I would have liked the chance to decide if it was wearable or not." Nemamiah took it upon herself to carry as many bags as possible and gathered several bags at once as the brothers were talking.

 

"Or you wanted to say good-bye to it." Dean smirked.

 

"I don't say good-bye to my rags." Sam frowned at Dean.

 

"You do too." Dean argued as he grabbed for more shopping bags for himself to carry in. "You probably have a little funeral going on in that thick skull..." He paused, his hand only finding the Impala's leather seat instead of more shopping bags. He looked around but found nothing. "Where the hell did they go?"

 

"I got them, Dad!" Nemamiah called from the porch. Both her arms were full of bulging plastic bags, with clothes, food and miscellaneous human maintenance supplied. Castiel was with her and he had one bag. She tried going into the house but the bags stopped her because there were just too many to go in at once. Dean's jaw dropped; he'd forgotten she was stronger than she looked. 

 

"One arm at a time, Nemamiah." Castiel suggested and she stepped in sideways, making it through the doorway on the second try. Sam smiled and held out one shopping bag to Dean.

 

"You should help carry stuff in, Dean." Sam mocked Dean's earlier demands that he help. Dean begrudgingly took the bag and spied the shine off the black stone that was on Sam's hand.

 

"You know that's hudu, right." Dean eyed it and Sam paused, looking at the ring.

 

"Gabriel said it was safe," Sam said slowly. "Nothing bad's happened so far."

 

"So far," Dean quipped because that was usually how their luck ran. Sam's face flushed as he looked at the ring.

 

"Look, Gabriel cut it off Famine and he gave it to me as..." Sam flinched, as though unable to believe he was telling his brother this. "A posy ring. Like a promise ring. Don't you say anything." Dean closed his mouth and rolled his eyes. "It's not a marriage thing. It's.. symbolic and I..." Sam took a deep breath, "I love him, okay? I want to keep him..."

 

"That is creepy and mushy all at the same time," Dean cut in. "So you two are really together? All romance and flowers?" Sam gave a small shrugged and fiddled with the ring on his hand.

 

"Yeah," Sam agreed and Dean grumbled a little, shutting the Impala door. "I kind of wanted to ask, where did War's ring get put?" Dean paused.

 

"Why?" Dean's brows rose high, eying Sam.

 

"I want to... well, I want to give it to Gabriel." Sam rubbed his arm and Dean gave him a disbelieving look.

 

"Sam, it's a key to Lucifer's Cage, and you want to give it to GABRIEL." Dean frowned.

 

"I know, but... he's basically on our side." Sam ignored Deans glare. "Without Gabriel we wouldn't even know about the cage, okay? He told us, and that means he's trying to help."

 

"If he wants to help he can fight Lucifer with us," Dean grumbled.

 

"POINT is, I cut off War's ring, and Gabriel cut off Famine's and I want to give it to him as a temporary ring until after the Apocalypse, okay?" Sam managed to spit out in one breath with his face a nice rosy red. Dean stared at him and threw his hands into the air, the bag in his hand rattling.

 

"Fine, God, take it," Dean scoffed. "It's in the trunk in my gun bag. Out side pocket." Sam smiled and went to the trunk. "We better get them all back."

 

"We will, we will," Sam said as he dug around the trunk for what he was looking for. Dean sighed and went inside.

 

Nemamiah was in the kitchen and Bobby was directing her to where everything went. Castiel was helping as well, but not as enthusiastically as Nemamiah. He was still moving like he was 80 but he was putting the perishables away in the fridge.

 

"That medication kick in yet?" Dean asked and Castiel stood, closing the refrigerator.

 

"I believe so." Castiel gathered another bag of items and started to order them in the freezer. "The headache has lessened. But I still feel rather tired."

 

"You could rest up some more in a bit," Dean suggested and Castiel sighed.

 

"I'm tired of resting. I should be healed by now," Castiel said crossly.

 

"Get used to it, you don't have the angel juice to heal up anymore," Dean said and Castiel shot him a glare over his shoulder that was about the temperature the icebox was. Dean knew he said the wrong thing and he grimaced. That didn't come out like he wanted it to. "I meant..." He tried again as he watched Castiel resume his chore with a little more vigor. "You just got to be a bit patient. I know it sucks being laid up, believe me, I know. It's just... the best you can do until you're better."

 

Castiel shut the freezer, giving Dean another look, one that was less freezing but not out of jacket weather, "Yes, Dean, I know." Castiel walked over to Dean, holding his hands out for Dean's bag. "I will rest after everything is put away." Dean held out the bag, not wanting to get any further south when he already felt like he was in the dog house. Castiel checked the contents of the bag before leaving the room to put the toiletries away, nearly brushing past Dean, but Castiel veered far out of Dean's lean to do so, making Dean frown after him.

 

"Idjit," Bobby snorted and Dean turned, seeing Bobby was looking at him from his wheel chair and Nemamiah was sitting on the counter, a few of the cabinets open where food was being put. "What's this 'get used to it' crap?"

 

"I know, I know." Dean waved his hands, opening another bag that was on the counter. It was one less bag Castiel would have to do later. "Stupid thing to say."

 

"Good. Don't say it again." Bobby handed another can to Nemamiah, who pushed herself to her knees to put the cans away.

 

Dean kicked himself, remembering Castiel mentioning his phantom limb-wings and Bobby in his chair. It wasn't like Castiel was getting new wings and Bobby wasn't growing new legs. So yeah, they had to get used to it, but they didn't need him reminding them of their disabilities. Dean decided to shut his mouth for a bit before he dug his own grave deeper.


	34. Ring Exchange

“Bobby said there's a case about a day's drive from here,” Sam said as Dean was working under Baby's hood. Dean took the opportunity to fix the Impala when ever they were at Bobby's. There was parts galore, tools to work with, and Baby needed a tune up before they headed out on the road again. 

 

“More cannibalism?” Dean asked hopefully, twisting the bolt back into place and Sam was leaning in with Dean, watching the progress. Dean was spotted with bits of car grime and Sam was handing him tools for the job.

 

“No, more like animal attacks.” Sam was holding a hatchet wrench in his hand. “3 in one night, and the same thing happened last month around this time. The hearts were missing.”

 

“Just the heart?” Dean glanced at his brother.

 

“From what Bobby heard, yeah.” Sam nodded.

 

“Sounds like our thing,” Dean agreed and held out a hand for the wench and Sam held it out to him, “We should check it out. ASAP.” Sam was given the screw driver in the wrench's place.

 

“We could leave tonight.” Sam glanced at Bobby's house. “But what about Miah and Cas?”

 

“What about them?” Dean asked, brows lowered in defense.

 

“I mean, is Miah coming on a hunt?”Sam shrugged, not trying to pick a fight. John really hadn't had a choice when Dean and Sam had been moved from motel room to motel room, so Sam really couldn't guess what was going through Dean's mind.

 

“Oh, hell no,” Dean said automatically. “She's staying here where it's safe.” Sam quirked a brow at Dean.

 

“You've talked to Cas about it already?” Sam asked slowly.

 

“What do you mean? What other option is there?” Dean scoffed and stood straighter, wiping his hands on a rag.

 

“Well, Cas doesn't seem like the type to sit around and baby sit,” Sam said. He'd been watching for the past few days and the tension was obvious; at least on Castiel's end. They didn't often crowd Bobby's house like this, but with the Apocalypse, a prepubescent being brought into the world, and searching for the rings to lock Lucifer away, they were all pretty packed in one spot.

 

“Well, she's not coming with us,” Dean said firmly. “It'd be safer for them both to stay here. Cas isn't exactly full capacity either.”

 

Sam glanced at the house again, remembering how Castiel had been so wrecked the first few days back. He was still resting often, but he was up and moving, which was a plus. “Is he still sleeping?”

 

“Should be.” Dean dumped the rag onto the toolbox near by. He looked from the house to Sam. “Mind getting Miah to come out here? I want to see how her little sponge mind can memorize an engine.” Sam rolled his eyes but he stood up, laying the screw driver back into the tool box.

 

“Yeah, sure.” Sam meandered towards the house. He thought of calling Gabriel; at least before he left for the case. The ring was burning in his pocket since he'd dug it out of Dean's bag. Sam fingered the phone in his pocket; He missed the archangel, he hadn't seen him since their date.

 

Sam turned into the living room and ended up not needing to send the text. Gabriel was there in the living room and explaining things to Nemamiah about what was on the TV. And for some reason, Bobby's old TV set was now a flat screen on the wall. Sam didn't recognize the show, but it was a cartoon. Nemamiah had gotten a few tank tops so her wings could easily push past the thin straps to freedom. She was slowly learning to keep them tucked in around the house; she had a habit of knocking over stacks of Bobby's books. But they were out now, curled neatly to her back as she was looking at the archangel.

 

"You see, cartoons are not to be taken seriously," Gabriel was saying, gesturing to the screen. "They're all symbolic interpretations that humans have and they make them into entertainment." Sam raised an eyebrow. He'd never heard Gabriel sound so... well, smart. He was the Trickster and all, but he seemed comfortable with explaining it to Nemamiah.

 

"But why do their limbs stretch outside the realms of reality?" Nemamiah tried to emulate with her own arm, but it would not stretch and she looked frustrated with it. Gabriel chuckled and Sam smiled, leaning in the doorway to the living room.

 

"Because, there are certain rules of physics that you don't really have control over here." Gabriel gestured airily, "There are places where these rules don't exist, but not here." Nemamiah pursed her lips together, processing it. "Certain beings, such as myself, can make a sub-space where I can have any rules I want. But that's mostly because I've had tons of practice, and also because I'm super awesome."

 

"I want to be super-awesome," Nemamiah stated, straightening up and Gabriel ruffled her short dark hair.

 

"You are super-awesome." Gabriel grinned as he leaned in to tickle her again and Nemamiah's wings and arms flailed backwards so as not be tickled again by her uncle. Sam snorted a bit of a laugh, making both of them look up. Gabriel gave Sam a cheeky smile. 

 

"Your dad wants to show you how a car works, Miah." Sam stood up from the door frame and Nemamiah hopped off of the couch and ran towards the door; probably to get away from the tickling faster.

 

"Okay, Uncle Sam." She skirted by him, the edge of her wing catching him in the leg. Sam winced because it hit solid; more than one would expect. "Sorry!" She called from behind and continued outside. Gabriel chuckled and waved Sam over to the couch.

 

"They hit harder than they look." Sam rubbed his thigh and hobbled over carefully. Gabriel folded his arms behind his head, leaning back as Sam sat down.

 

“Well, wings can fly us any where we like, toot-sweet.” Gabriel cocked a grin at Sam. “You know, playing uncle is kinda fun.” Sam smiled a bit.

 

"Uncle Gabriel," Sam tried out the sound of it.

 

"Got a nice ring to it, uh?" Gabriel placed his hand over Sam's thigh, which was over the bruise. Sam scoffed.

 

"Not at Bobby's," Sam protested and Gabriel stuck out his tongue at Sam.

 

"Okay, I can replace the bruise if you want but you never seemed like the masochistic type to me." Gabriel removed his hand and Sam blinked dumbly for a moment, but realized the pain in his leg was gone. "Not physically anyway. Emotionally might be another topic all together..."

 

"You can heal?" Sam asked and paused, as though remembering who he was talking to. He ran his fingers through his hair. "Of course you can heal. Angel..."

 

"I might be rusty, but I can kiss your boo-boos away if I feel like it." Gabriel leaned back cockily, crossing his legs and taking up more room on the couch. Sam felt a swell of excitement.

 

"You could heal Bobby's legs," Sam concluded.

 

"I don't feel like it," Gabriel returned without a hitch.

 

Sam was stunned a moment and Gabriel seemed unconcerned with his own answer. He was looking Sam up and down, thinking. Sam gave him a confused look. "But... it would really help us out? Him out..."

 

"Okay, yes, I could, but I don't want to." Gabriel waved his hand around airily. "Besides, what is Zach gonna say if he finds Bobby can suddenly walk? Cas can't do it. I managed to wipe the memories of the angels chasing me, so I'm officially back under witness protection. Besides, he looks good in the chair. Kind of gives him the reason to be so paranoid and crotchity..."

 

"Gabriel, please?" Sam tried nicely but Gabriel just rolled his eyes.

 

"Sam, you can't just bat your eyelashes at me and expect me to swoon every time. Cas has a horrible crush on your bro and all, but I have some pride and sense." Gabariel folded his arms and leaned back against the couch.

 

"Please? It would really mean a lot to me?" Sam gave Gabriel a steady, pleading look.

 

Gabriel's head rolled back. "For the love of dad..." There was a moment, he was considering it. Sam could tell. "Nope, still don't feel like it." Sam sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Gabriel eyed him and brought up his feet to rest in Sam's lap. "Look, you and Dean are exceptions that I've made lots of times. I'm not going to fix all your problems for you."

 

"It's just that-"

 

"How 'bout no? I don't think I've given you a straight no, yet. So, no."

 

"He doesn't have much, and Zachariah taking his legs-"

 

"Nope. Nada. _Nien. Iie. Net_..."

 

"It really makes him immobile and hunters need-"

 

"Sam, I'm not doing it."

 

"Mobility," Sam sighed. Gabriel's eyes were on the ceiling.

 

"You ask a lot from me," Gabriel stated, ankles crossing over Sam's lap. Sam took a deep breath. "Look, he's not dead. Not in any life threatening situation. Not drinking demon blood. Not doing it." Sam gave him a long narrow stare and Gabriel glanced at him. "Oh, stop it. I'm not doing it. I will go home if you keep bringing it up." Sam's hand fiddled with the denim of Gabriel's pants over his shin.

 

"Fine, fine..." Sam let it rest for now, but he knew if he persisted enough, Gabriel would do it. "I had something for you anyway." He dug his hand into his pocket and fished for the golden band.

 

"Mm?" Gabriel rested his elbows beside him on the arm of the couch. Sam pinched War's ring between his fingers and held it up. Gabriel eyed it, then looked at Sam.

 

"I told you I had a ring." Sam smiled a bit nervously.

 

Gabriel smiled back calmly. "Got a promise you want to make, Sam?"

 

"Yeah," Sam breathed and Gabriel stretched his left hand towards Sam. Sam slipped the ring onto the ring finger and held the archangel's hand in both of his. "I love you and I don't want to lose you again." Sam gave a dry, nervous laugh. "I... I'm not sure if it's a promise or not, but I want you to be mine. And I want to be yours." Sam took a deep breath. "For as long as possible." Gabriel smiled, more genuinely than usual.

 

"Sounds good to me." Gabriel dropped his feet from Sam's lap and leaned forward to kiss Sam's lips. Sam smiled, sinking into the lips of the archangel. Gabriel's fingers weaved into Sam's hair and pulled him in deeper and closer. Sam leaned into it, eyes closing...

 

"Damn it, I said no makin' out on the couch!" Bobby rolled in in his chair from the kitchen, casting them both a nasty glare. Sam sat bolt upright and Gabriel stayed half sprawled out on the other half of the couch. Gabriel huffed.

 

"It's not like we were having sex," Gabriel grumbled.

 

"Yer not doin' that anywhere on my property." Bobby folded his arms. Sam held his head, feeling how hot his face was and Bobby rolled back to finish making his phone calls, grumbling under his breath. 

 

"See, crotchity old bastard." Gabriel smiled and stole a kiss before he pushed himself up. "And I'd better get going before he starts thinking like you." He grinned at Sam. "We'll consummate your promise later." Sam crinkled his nose at Gabriel, still embarrassed about getting caught.

 

"Yeah, okay," Sam finally agreed. “And I wanted to let you know we're going to be going on a case soon.”

 

“Have fun.” Gabriel smiled, and gave Sam one more kiss. “Kill things, all that jazz.” He gave a final grin before he flew off.


	35. Bumpy Road Ahead

"What's that?" Nemamiah pointed into the interior of the Impala's trusty engine.

 

"That's the alternator." Dean wiped his hands on a rag. "It runs the electricity through the car. It also recharges the battery."

 

"What's that?"

 

“The timing belt.” Dean leaned in with her, with the engine he'd put back together and replaced half of it himself, but he kept what he could there. “It makes all the valves work properly.” Nemamiah leaned further in, standing on her tip toes on a crate and her wings lifted to balance herself against the hood.

 

“Why's there so much silver tape?” She looked up at Dean.

 

“Because your dad can't always stop by Bobby's for a fix up.” Dean smiled. “But since I'm here, I've already fixed her up with good parts.” Nemamiah slowly nodded, taking all of the car in front of her.

 

Dean stood and caught Castiel stretching his arms up slowly over his head on the porch. Dean noted the casual t-shirt and jeans that they'd shopped for before Nemamiah's split. Jimmy's old slack size must have been right because otherwise Castiel would be swimming in the damn yoga pants still. 

 

"Hey, Cas," Dean greeted mildly as Castiel made his way over to their little shaded corner of the lot. Nemamiah's wings fluttered a bit, bumping into Dean's arm but Dean took little notice. "You're up early." Castiel had been sleeping a lot; day and night. Castiel looked much more coherent than a few days ago though. He stood straighter and eyes more alert.

 

“I feel well enough to be up.” Castiel gave a half smile to Nemamiah, who returned it.

 

“That's good.” Dean rubbed the back of his neck. Castiel wasn't really a talker, Dean knew, but the extra sleep had not really cleared up the tension they'd created. 

 

“Dad's teaching me about the car engine,” Nemamiah stated, sitting on the edge of the car, her wings tucked neatly as she was learning that she did not enjoy injuring family members.

 

“Ah, that is... useful, I suppose.” Castiel glanced into the engine.

 

“Damn useful,” Dean said. “Especially for getting around.”

 

“I have wings, Dad.” Nemamiah's feathers ruffled, calling attention to themselves.

 

“Yeah, but you can't fly everywhere.” Dean tugged on the feathers that she waved in his general direction, “Normal humans use cars and buses to get around.”

 

“And planes,” Castiel said thoughtfully.

 

Dean scoffed. “Still not like when you fly.” Dean paused, then looked to Nemamiah, hoping it would be directed to her more instead of both of them. “Miah. So you should learn how to drive and sit for hours at a time.” Nemamiah made an uncomfortable face, as though she was thinking 'That sounds boring' but did not say anything about it. Dean looked at Castiel. “Where's your trench coat?” Castiel was less formidable without the billowing coat; he actually looked pretty normal. A little too normal.

 

"Inside. It's rather uncomfortable to wear today." Castiel looked at the sky, which was bright and sunny. It was fairly warm and Dean grimaced. He was so used to Castiel wearing that over coat, no matter the weather.

 

"Yeah, um..." Dean gestured to the Impala. "Bobby found a case earlier today. Me and Sam were gonna head out to check it."

 

"I'll pack our things," Castiel said easily, without even thinking about it. 

 

"Well uh, just me and Sam are going. I'm not bringing Miah on a hunt." Dean frowned because he'd just had that conversation with Sam.

 

"I'm not leaving her here." Castiel frowned back, lifting his lead slightly.

 

"Well, I was thinking you'd stay here; keep an eye on Miah and Bobby."

 

"I'm not staying here while you hunt. I'm coming with you. And I'm not leaving Nemamiah with Bobby."

 

"But Miah's like, what, a week old. She's not coming on a hunt. And you're still healing up from giving birth. Splitting; whatever”

 

“I'm much better that I was and I'm no longer ailed by anything that was caused by the split,” Castiel informed him, folding his arms.

 

“But you're not in any fighting condition. You're graceless, remember?”

 

Castiel puffed up, actually looking offended. "Just because I no longer have grace should I be reduced to only babysitting our daughter and crippled hunter. I'm NOT useless"

 

"I never said you were useless. I'm just... You're newly human, you're used to having superpowers. You could get hurt."

 

"As could you."

 

"I've been doing this all my life without superpowers."

 

"Nemamiah will have to learn to fight eventually."

 

Dean stood dumbstruck. "What? Hell no!"

 

"She's part angel. It's in her blood to be a warrior."

 

"She's just a kid, no one should be put through that."

 

"She's not all human, Dean."

 

"She's just a little girl."

 

"I... don't understand what difference that makes."

 

"Just on principle, no kid should be raised to fight."

 

"Dean, she is a nephilim. Angels are under order to kill her on sight. Do you want her to be helpless when caught in a situation?"

 

"No. But that's besides the point."

 

"It IS the point."

 

"Dad. Father." Nemamiah spoke up and both adults looked at her, as though remembering she was there. She patted her foot on the crate, hands supporting her on the rim of the hood. "I can stay with Uncle Bobby. I'll keep him safe. You can go on your trip together." Castiel's face contorted in a tight lipped grimace and Dean glanced at Nemamiah, frowning. It was an option, but it was not the one that Dean opted for. "You both want to go." She said logically, "I don't want to leave Uncle Bobby here by himself."

 

"You haven't even been though basic training," Castiel protested softly.

 

"Bobby's got a gun or three," Dean pointed out. "He's not defenseless."

 

"Uncle Bobby has a hard time getting things," Nemamiah said. "I've seen him." Castiel shuffled uncomfortably, clearly bothered by the thought of leaving Nemamiah there. "How long would you be gone?"

 

"Maybe week, or two..." Dean muttered and looked at Castiel who looked even more strained as he stole a glance at Dean. 

 

"See, we can't leave Uncle Bobby alone for two weeks." Nemamiah nodded with her own decision. Dean nudged Castiel who was tense and stiffly looked at Dean. Dean rested a hand on Castiel's shoulder, turning him so they were both away from their daughter to speak.

 

"She sort of has a point." Dean waved a coaxing hand. "Bobby's got the place locked down. No one's been by to take her. And we got an archangel babysitter." Castiel frowned.

 

"Gabriel is more likely to run if trouble comes his way." Castiel straightened his back. “I don't want to leave her alone.”

 

"I'm just saying," Dean continued. "We're not leaving her alone. We're leaving her with Bobby." Castiel did not look convinced, but he did not protest verbally. "If you don't like the thought of leaving her here with Bobby, you can stay too. Sam and me can handle a few monsters. We've done it before." Castiel eyed him warily, looking conflicted. "We're leaving tonight." Dean hoped Castiel opted to stay so he wouldn't have to worry about Castiel not being up to snuff. Castiel huffed and did not answer. He turned from Dean's hand and walked over to Nemamiah.

 

"Nemamiah, let us work on some basic exercises." Castiel held out his hand and Nemamiah took it, hopping down from the Impala. Dean ran his dirty hand through his hair and watched them go inside. He closed the hood to the Impala and caught Nemamiah looking back and waving. Dean gave her a smile and a quick wave back. Dean could tell Castiel was still mad at him when he wouldn't give a glance back.

 


	36. Crosswords

Sam decided this was not going to be a very comfortable trip for him while he was packing the Impala's trunk. The first indication was Dean. Dean was quiet. The sort of quiet that often meant that there was an internal problem that he was not sharing with Sam. Dean had packed the Impala an hour ago and was leaning against the passenger door, waiting to get on the road. Then Castiel came out in his trench coat and duffel bag. Nemamiah was with him, her wings out and catching the receding sun light. Castiel distinctly avoided eye contact with Dean as he walked over to the car. Sam had heard about the issue of Nemamiah staying or going; or rather, Dean had moaned about Castiel's reaction. 

 

Castiel placed his bag next to Sam's in the trunk and turned to Nemamiah, placing a kiss on her brow. "I will call to check in with you."

 

"Okay," she agreed. 

 

"We good?" Dean gestured to the Impala, watching Castiel and Nemamiah's exchange. To Sam the farewell seemed rather formal, but then again, Castiel wasn't the most practiced with human emotion. Castiel nodded and Nemamiah trotted over to Dean, standing in front of him, looking up at him. Dean smirked.

 

"Let me show you how to say good bye. Come 'ere you." He lifted the girl into a hug and Nemamiah paused, but returned the hug with her own around his neck. Sam smiled and Castiel shifted his weight to another foot, watching; agitated, if Sam had to guess. Dean pulled back and Nemamiah was still in one arm.

 

"I like that," she announced and Dean seemed to remember that this girl was still new to the world.

 

"What, hugs?" Dean asked.

 

"Yes." she confirmed with a nod. "I like hugs." Dean smiled and there was another embrace before he let her down. She then went to Sam and opened her arms. Sam chuckled and knelt down to give her hug. He made sure to wrap his arms under the wings so he didn't bend them and then squeezed her warmly.

 

"Make sure Cas gets one too," he whispered into her hear and she nodded before he opened his arms again. Once he stood back up she ran back over to Castiel and she gave Castiel's waist a hug as well. Castiel seemed startled but he picked her up as Dean had, hugging her tightly. But he didn't seem to want to let go. Nemamiah started to squirm, her wings flapping and arms waving.

 

"How long are hugs supposed to be?" She asked and Dean tapped Castiel's shoulder. 

 

"Just long enough," Dean answered mildly and Castiel's brows were crinkled in worry. It was clear Castiel didn't want to leave her. "We'll come back as soon as we can." Castiel slowly loosened his grip and let Nemamiah down to the ground.

 

"Have a successful trip," she told them and then jogged back to the porch, where Bobby was. She opened her arms to him and Bobby looked startled.

 

"I'm not goin' anywhere," Bobby grumbled and Nemamiah put her arms down, looking back to the Impala. Sam was already getting in the front and so was Dean. Castiel finally got into the back seat, but sat glued to the window as they pulled away. Nemamiah was the only one waving for a minute, but then so was everyone in the Impala before they drove out of view. 

 

"It's not too far, only 12 hours," Dean said, glancing back at Castiel, but Castiel didn't turn away from the window to answer; blatantly ignoring Dean. Dean rolled his eyes and turned on the music for the trip. Sam sighed to himself and sank down in his seat. He could feel the thickness in the air. 

 

The long hour trip only grew more unbearable. Castiel fidgeted more, looking out the window, sliding back and forth from one side of the car to the other. It was obvious he was thinking of his daughter. After 3 hours of it, Dean made a pit stop and told Castiel to stop being so antsy. Castiel refused to respond to Dean other than give him a sour glance before getting out of the car to stretch his legs. Sam sighed, realizing Castiel didn't have anything to DO on the trip. Normally Castiel was content to sit quietly and listen to Dean howl along with the music. But now that he was worried about Nemamiah, he needed a distraction.

 

Sam took the liberty of purchasing some magazines from the gas station they were at and offering them to the angel... well... now human. Castiel looked at the small stack.

 

"You got to keep you mind focused on something," Sam explained and also had the news paper tucked under his arm for his own entertainment. Castiel sorted through the magazines. Sudoku, crosswords, Reader's digest and People magazine; along with the tabloids that Dean liked so much.

 

The trip was much more tolerable after that. The booklet of Sudoku did not survive the trip as Castiel was done with it in 2 hours and he'd made a nice dent in the crossword puzzle, but at least that left him stumped a few times. Castiel didn't know all the cultural references. At least that got Dean and Castiel talking. 

 

"Ghostbusters' goo.” Castiel tapped the pencil on his upper lip, the little light turned on in the back since they were driving at night and the brothers were taking shifts driving. “5 letters.”

 

“... Slime,” Dean guessed and Castiel checked, then penciled it in. 

 

“Beef-eater product. 6 letters.”

 

Dean thought hard, nose scrunched up in thought. “Any letters?”

 

“Begins with a D and R.”

 

“Try Dry Gin.” Dean suggested and Castiel marked that down as well.

 

“Cage, one for. 5 letters.”

 

“Actor.” Dean grinned, looking in the back mirror, catching Castiel's soft smile. When Castiel met Dean's eyes though, his smile dropped and he held the book between the mirror and blocked their eye contact. 

 

“Sarcasm indicator,” Castiel continued. “9 letters.”

 

Dean lifted his fingers off the steering wheel as he counted letters in his head. “Air quotes.”

 

“Talk and talk. 3 letters.” 

 

There was a pause.

 

“Gab.” Sam joined in and Castiel lowered the book, unable to hide a smile, and neither could Sam or Dean.


	37. The Pack

The remaining drive flew by quickly as they reached the large town. The Winchesters had a finely tuned motion of picking their motel and moving the mandatory items inside for a hunt. Both brothers organized information, summed up what they knew, and suited up for their FBI agent roles. Sam handed Castiel one of the leather bound IDs and Dean raised a brow.

 

“Sam,” Dean said and Sam rolled his eyes.

 

“We're not having an argument, Dean.” Sam straightened his own tie and dug out a pen from his bag. ”Cas wants to help, so he get's a badge.” Castiel opened the leather to see the FBI letters. He found his own picture there and he recognized it from when Dean took him on the investigation for Raphael. Castiel grimaced bitterly at the voice that still haunted him and threatened his child, “Here, just sign the name that's on the badge and you're good.” Castiel slipped out the paper and carefully signed the name Danny Tanner.

 

“Just let us do all the talking,” Dean advised. 

 

“I will observe.” Castiel took another long look at the badge before he tucked it into his trench coat pocket, “Perhaps I will improve my communication skills.”

 

“Yeah, you need it.” Dean stepped forward and his face contorted in annoyance before he straightened Castiel's tie and buttoned his suit jacket. Since Jimmy's suit pants had been stretched from severance, they had to purchase him some new dress pants, but the rest still fit and Castiel put his tench coat on, perhaps to add back a little of the weight that had left his back. “You still look like a holy tax accountant.” Castiel allowed the primping and Sam watched with raised brows of amusement. “You screw us up and you're spending the rest of the time in the room.” Castiel frowned.

 

“I will not 'screw you up',” Castiel said dryly as Dean gave him an approving nod, once his suit looked decent enough to pass as a Fed. Castiel didn't think he'd done so badly while they were searching for Raphael so he saw no reason for Dean to be so strict with the operation.

 

“Good to hear. Remember, we got 3 hearts missing in one night.” Dean paused, remembering something. He took his loaded gun and checked it to make sure it was a full round. “Assuming what I think we're searching for, this is full of silver.” Dean held the butt of the .45 to Castiel, who took it and inspected it. It wasn't impressive to someone who was once an angel; but it was what he was reduced to. Little flying pieces of metal that he used to be able to out fly. Castiel released a breath and searched his clothes for a spot to place his gun. Dean directed him to put it in the back of his pants for the journey.

 

Riding in the Impala to the morgue, Sam's eyes were drawn to his new badge. “Where did you come up with these names, Dean? Joey Gladstone...” It sounded familiar to Sam, but the younger brother couldn't place it for a moment. Dean just smirked and slid on his sun glasses.

 

“Have _mercy_.” Dean put extra emphasis on the word mercy and Sam's eyes bore into Dean as he parked the car, the names clicking.

 

“Dean,” Sam said warningly, “you didn't.”

 

“Shh, it's Jesse Katsopolis, FBI.” Dean grinned at Sam before dragging himself out of the car and heading into the morgue before Sam could stop him. Castiel made sure his ID was right side up in his pocket before following both brothers inside the sterile interior. 

 

“Agent Katsopolis, Gladstone, and Tanner.” Dean managed to introduce them without too much pride to the morgue director as he flashed his ID. The morgue director did not seem to understand the joke any better than Castiel as he checked it. Sam was giving Dean a cold look as he flashed his, which Dean skillfully ignored. Dean glanced back at Castiel who lifted his head higher, ID out and right side up. Dean quirked an eyebrow but that was the only reaction Castiel got while they were there. 

 

Their attention was turned to the most recent “animal” attacks from the night before. The ribs were broken, flesh torn and clearly, the most important organs were missing; especially the heart, but also the liver and other spare parts; as though what ever it had been was really, really hungry. The limbs were also gnawed to the bone. Castiel's head inclined to the side, finding that odd. 

 

“So, are we looking at three werewolves?” Sam asked once they were alone with the bodies. Sam had on a pair of gloves and was pulling the shredded flesh away from the collapsed chest. “Looks like they ate a lot more that the heart. Lungs, liver, stomach....”

 

“It was only the first night of the moon cycle,” Dean said. “Bobby said there were a few of these last month as well, but not 3 in one night. Imagine how many three werewolves can do in one week leading up to the full moon. And who knows if they did last night too.” Sam grimaces at the thought. Castiel inspected the larger carcass.

 

“21 plus anyone who gets in the way.” Sam watched Castiel touch one arm, turning over the lifeless blubber. “Cas, use gloves. You're vulnerable to blood pathogens now, you know.” Sam tossed him a pair and Castiel stretched the latex experimentally.

 

“I don't think there's three.” Castiel pocketed the gloves, earning him an annoyed look from Sam. “I think there's more.”

 

“Cas, three hearts, three werewolves. Do the math.” Dean's hands slid into his pockets.

 

“I don't think it's that simple.” Castiel gestured to the limbs. “Why would a hungry beast chew the arms if he is starving for the heart?”

 

“Dog wanted a bone?” Dean asked with a sly grin.

 

“Cas has a point.” Sam looked into the ragged meat, “Werewolves eat the heart and get out. No need to stick around and chew the fat. Literally in this case.” Dean paused, finally taking a closer look at the limbs.

 

“Looks kinda like a chicken leg got a bite taken out of it,” Dean mentioned and Sam shot him a glare.

 

“Dean, At least try to be serious,” Sam said. “We could have 5, maybe 6 werewolves here.” Dean scratched his chin.

 

“A whole pack.” Dean muttered, frowning suddenly. “But... that points to them working together. But they're just mindless monsters.”

 

“If there was a older werewolf,” Castiel thought aloud, eying the other bodies, “there might be a leader. One who is conscious enough to give directions.” Sam and Dean looked at Castiel and Castiel looked at several smaller bites where there used to be fingers. “They must have been hungry, to have been eating the flesh.” He pursed his lips. “And so many to attack one human...”

 

“Wait, werewolves can get control?” Sam asked.

 

“With the certain amount of will power.” Castiel shrugged, moving to another body. “I don't think many strive for it though. I'm sure you can relate, Sam.” Castiel missed the cold bitch-face in his direction. Dean just smirked a little and stood next to Castiel.

 

“Think they're trying to keep a low profile?” Dean watched Castiel fight with a glove to get it on. “Twist it, you've got it on- the thumb goes here.”

 

“Oh.” Castiel straightened the glove and it fit loose on his skin. He reached into the chest cavity and drew it back out with a long claw, caught in a mix between a human nail and a black hook.

 

“That's not a wolf claw.” Dean stated and Castiel placed it on the metal table. 

 

“I wonder why the werewolf lost it,” Castiel pondered and wished he could get an aerial view, but of course, he had no wings now. He had not felt them for some time now. The last time he felt wings, as weak as they were, was when Nemamiah was still apart of him. 

 

“Tearing into humans could cause someone to ruin their manicure,” Dean suggested and waved to the door. “Come on. Let's start asking victims. Cas, you're with me.” Sam peeled the gloves from his hands and dropped everything into the trash and prompted Castiel to do the same.

 

“Of course, Dean,” Castiel said without thought as he followed Sam's example. He was still getting used to the fact that diseases could affect him now; in made the world seem like a much more dangerous place.

 

-

 

“Why am I Joey Gladstone?” Sam asked on the car trip to the motel rooms to split up people to interview.

 

“What do you mean, why?” Dean scoffed. “I've always been the cool one, which is Jesse. Actually, I think you're more of a Danny, but you always had your man crush on Joey.”

 

Sam fiddled with the badge, avoiding Dean's eyes. Well, yes, Joey was his favorite character on the show. He didn't really think Dean had noticed. Yeah, Jesse was cool, but he'd always liked Joey in the most unconventional way...

 

“Wait a minute.” Dean stopped hard at a stop sign and looked at Sam. “Did you actually have a crush on Joey Gladstone when you were little? You have a freaking type? No wonder you started banging a trickster...” Sam hid his eyes with a hand and also rubbed his temples. He didn't want to have this conversation while on a case. Or ever.

 

“He made me LAUGH, okay?” Sam defended himself, his face feeling warm.

 

“You had a boner for Joey...” Dean groaned, but at the same time was amused by it.

 

“I did not!” Sam threw a glare at Dean, who continued on down the road. And so what if he had really liked Joey from Full House? He wasn't going to talk about it with Dean. With Castiel in the car. Who had no clue what was going on. Dean was snickering. “Shut UP, Dean.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I'm not sorry for the Full House References.)


	38. Morning Before The Hunt

Five days after Sam, Dean, and Castiel arrived in town, they'd only killed two werewolves. There had been 4 more victim bodies, but those were good odds since they'd saved about double that just by scouting the park at night. Unfortunately, the werewolves were cowardly and ran away at the first whiff of silver.

 

“This is our last night,” Dean stressed when the sun came up and he plopped himself in the driver's seat. There was no kill that night, only a graze or two because there were no lingering werewolf bodies that Dean could find. Castiel tossed the empty coffee thermos in the back seat and slipped into the passenger seat, shielding his eyes from the sun. Sam was back at the motel since they'd started taking night shifts on the park. Sam volunteered to do research most nights; probably so Castiel and Dean could 'talk' out what ever problems they were having. However, there was little talking because they had to be very quiet; werewolves had great hearing.

 

Dean started the Impala. He'd thought a few times during this case that he should have asked future Castiel about the werewolves more because, damn it, it would have helped him out a lot about now. Dean glanced over at Castiel, wondering how they ever did this while Castiel was in severance; though, in that time line, Castiel probably still had his mojo.

 

“Perhaps Sam will have something.” Castiel's voice held half hope and half expected failure. It had been a long week and Dean understood because their sleep schedules were all screwed up and he would be happy to get back to Bobby's and see Nemamiah's sweet face again. Castiel had taken to calling Bobby's every night to talk to his little girl. Dean edged in a few words too, but Castiel was a phone hog when it came to Nemamiah. Every night, Nemamiah was fine, and she would tell them in detail about what her and Bobby did that day. Even if it was something boring like watching TV, picking up books, or researching Bobby's library. Castiel never showed that he was bored of hearing her though; in fact, he would often update her information if it was wrong, and then he'd get an ear full from Bobby.

 

“Yeah, maybe.” Dean sighed and steered the car back towards the motel room. “Want anything to eat?”

 

“No.” Castiel shook his head. “I'll eat when I wake up.”

 

They pulled up to the motel room and Dean was the first one in; both were bringing in the guns for cleaning. Sam was on his cell phone and he raised a finger to his lips for them to be quiet. “Yes, thank you for your cooperation. Good bye.” Castiel sat at the table, where Sam's work was laid out strategically and Sam's face lit up, signaling good news, “I finally found out how those two werewolves we got were connected.” Dean plopped his bag on the bed and looked to Sam.

 

“Great, what is it?” Dean knew they needed a big plan for this to work out.

 

“They both belong to a book club,” Sam said and Dean's eyebrows raised slowly.

 

“Werewolves, in a book club,” Dean repeated. Castiel was moving papers into a stack and started to spread out the gun cleaning supplies. Since Dean had taught Castiel how to shoot within the past few days, he'd also shown him how to care for them. Of course Castiel took a meticulous pattern to it and Sam helped by moving his papers into smaller, ordered piles. They both had OCD, Dean swore. 

 

“Yeah, get this.” Sam picked up his notebook with several names on it. “They meet before and after the full moon, all the victims have either been a threat to one of the member or have been threatened by one of the members.”

 

“Alright. How many are there?” Dean walked over to the table to look over Sam's research.

 

“Five left,” Sam informed him and Dean groaned.

 

“Five in one night?” Dean grumbled.

 

“But I've got a plan.” Sam smirked. “Werewolves react to threats, whether obvious or subconscious.” Sam gestured to his laptop. “So, I found their emails and sent them a threatening letter about knowing their dark secret. And told them to bring several hundred dollars to the park tonight.” Dean gave Sam an impressed look.

 

“You sent threatening emails.” Dean nodded.

 

“You repeat a lot when you're tired,” Sam informed him. “All we have to do is show up at the park and their should be werewolves on the prowl.”

 

“It's very compelling,” Castiel complimented as he ran the cleaning rod though the barrel. “But what if they're not all werewolves?”

 

“Well, hopefully they won't call the cops,” Sam said. “But I did of course include that they shouldn't call the police, and it's not an unreasonable price to pay. And hopefully if someone does come, they'll stay where we can see them.” It should have been weird that they were talking about blackmailing werewolves, but it seemed to be on par with their usual methods.

 

“When did you set the time for?” Dean asked.

 

“10pm.” Sam yawned and covered his mouth with his palm to stifle it. “Plenty of time for them to check their emails and for us to get some sleep.”

 

“Yeah,” Dean agreed and Sam got up to grab a few hours of sleep.

 

Castiel was done cleaning his gun first and he curled up on the bed he and Dean were sharing. It wasn't even a question anymore where they slept and it caught Dean's attention as he was putting his gun back together. Once the shades were pulled shut, Dean turned out the lights and stripped out of his jacket before crawling into bed with Castiel; who was curled up under the covers on one side of the bed. Dean briefly thought of stealing a sleepy kiss from Castiel, but so far during the hunt, Castiel was nothing but business. Soldier-mode, Dean called it in his head. It made him miss the nights where Castiel would curl up next to him, still pregnant and warmed to his every touch. Even when they had Nemamiah between them, they still touched.

 

Dean pulled the covers over himself and scooted closer to Castiel. “Hey,” he murmured to see if Castiel was really asleep. He wasn't because his eyes opened and they were still clear and alert. “We'll get to go back to see Miah and Bobby after this is done.”

 

“Yes, Dean, I know,” Castiel said and rolled over into his belly, tucked his arms under his chest and turning his head away. It should have been a hint, but Dean didn't take it.

 

“Look, I didn't want Miah to be here in case a few monsters decided to break in,” Dean continued anyway, lowly so they didn't wake Sam.

 

Castiel sighed with clear frustration and he turned his head back to face Dean. “I know Dean. I know the logistics of why it was inadvisable for Nemamiah to come with us.” He pursed his lips briefly. “But I would feel better if she was close to me.”

 

“I get that.” Dean laid on his pillow. “I do. I miss her too.” Castiel buried his face into the thin motel pillow and breathed out into it; as though depriving himself of oxygen was like being without his daughter.

 

Castiel finally lifted his head for air. “I worry because she's defenseless and has not been trained to protect herself. What if I'm not there when she needs me?” 

 

“You worry because you're her dad. That's normal I hope you know.” Dean gave Castiel a small smile and Castiel gave him a long, tired look that was more than physical.

 

“I never met my father,” Castiel murmured. “Whether it be God or another angel. What if I'm. . . not good?” Dean stared at Castiel and he lost his words for a moment. “I already left her and she's only 13 days old.”

 

“Cas.” Dean rubbed his hand over Castiel's shoulder blades. “You are good dad. I haven't seen otherwise.” Castiel didn't really smile, but his face relaxed while he processed it. Dean snaked his arm around Castiel's shoulders and curled his hand around Castiel's ribs, only a t-shirt between him and Castiel's skin. “You want her safe and happy, right?”

 

“Of course,” Castiel breathed without thought.

 

“So do I. So does Bobby and Sam. Damn it, Gabriel likes her too, so don't think you're alone in it for a minute,” Dean told him. He finally got the small smile he remembered weeks ago.

 

“No, of course not. Thank you, Dean.” Castiel glanced up and Dean smiled back and leaned in, feeling he'd ironed out a lot of the frustration Castiel had been dwelling on. But the kiss he aimed for Castiel's lips only caught his prickled jaw. 

 

“We should sleep, Dean. We have a long night tonight.” Castiel's eyes flickering back and forth from Dean to his pillow. Dean felt he missed something but he pulled his arm back.

 

“Yeah, I know.” Dean rolled over and huffed out a breath, watching Castiel settle down, getting a nice view of the back of Castiel's head. Dean was getting tired of this. They hadn't gotten any alone time since Sam was back with them, and that was one thing he regretted some times. He should have shoved Sam out the door and given him 50 bucks for a hooker or something. It was one thing that they hadn't slept together for 6 months after being busy with cases and he couldn't remember the last time he'd waited that long to continue sleeping with one person. Now Castiel was denying him the simple pleasure of kissing him.

 

Dean frowned but closed his eyes, shoving the frustration deep down for later use. He had people to save when it got dark; werewolves to kill. It would have to wait another day. Damn pack of werewolves.


	39. Hungry Like The Wolf

Night had long settled when Sam, Dean, and Castiel arrived themselves into the park, armed with more than enough silver to take down a small army of werewolves.

 

“The meeting spot is that large tree.” Sam gestured to the large singled out pine that seemed to be the very center of the park.

 

“Okay, we wait.” Dean looked to Castiel. “Stay aware.” Then he looked to Sam. “And don't get too friendly with them.” Sam shot him a cold look but Castiel only nodded.

 

“I'm taken, Dean. Shut up,” Sam quipped before he walked away to find a good sniping point. Castiel got up to go in the opposite direction. Dean waved his hand to Castiel.

 

“Cas, wait a minute.” Dean walked closer to Castiel as the other man stopped. “Maybe we should stick together on this one.” Castiel frowned.

 

“Dean, we've been together since we started hunting and it's done little good.” Castiel waved a hand in Sam's direction. “You let Sam go off on his own.”

 

“Sam's done this before,” Dean argued and Castiel shot Dean a glare similar to Sam's, only more offended, if that was possible.

 

“Dean, I am a soldier,” Castiel affirmed harshly. “Grace or not, I can fight and defend myself. Stop treating me as if I'm weaker than you.” Castiel puffed up his chest and Dean could only imagine when Nemamiah puffed up her wings to make herself look bigger; only he knew the wings weren't there. “If you stalk me instead of our prey, I _will_ shoot you.” Castiel marched off into the trees and Dean held up his hands, feeling thoroughly threatened since the first time he met the angel.

 

Dean's feet urged him to follow, even after Castiel was out of sight, but he also didn't doubt that Castiel would follow through on his threat. Dean grumbled, cocked his gun and started walking in another direction.

 

The full moon lit up the park in greens and blues. Sidewalk lamps lit the concrete but in the trees there was only shadows. Regardless of vendettas, there would be werewolves out that night. The moon was high long before 10 o’clock rolled around. Dean jerked as a shot was heard from Sam's direction and Dean immediately started jogging towards the sound. If their theory of werewolves hunted in packs held any water, then he was sure Sam could use some back up.

 

Dean did find Sam, and there was a man on the ground, still in the process of turning back into a human after death. Sam gave Dean a nod, assuring that he was unharmed and both heard a couple shots from the other side of the woods. 

 

“Think Cas needs some back up?” Sam asked and Dean thought yes, and it was a perfect excuse to go check on him. But before Dean could say anything, something blunt and heavy rammed into his side and he was met by the ground. Dean jutted his elbow upwards into a throat and when he actually got to see, it was a woman with really sharp teeth and she looked like she wanted to eat his face the way her toothy jaws snapped at him. The impact had jarred his gun from his hand and her claws were digging into his shoulders and chest.

 

“Dean!” Sam yelled, like it was going to help and aimed his gun, waiting for a clear shot and Dean instead gripped the silver knife he had in his jacket for just a moment like this.

 

“God, your breath reeks lady.” Dean gagged and she did not seemed pleased with his wisecracks. She yanked him from the ground since she couldn't bite him and chucked him into Sam. Sam let out a startled noise as Dean collided with him and they both went down. 

 

“Shit!” Dean rolled off Sam, holding up his knife as he got his bearings. The werewolf growled at him and stalked them slowly, walking around them in a slow circle. Sam rolled onto his feet and took aim but she leapt away, back into the shadows, and Sam was the next one knocked into the dirt from behind as a different woman had her claws in his back. Dean didn't hesitate, he lunged sideways and stabbed her in the ribs. She made a loud and pained canine mixed yowl as she stumbled away, her skin sizzling as Dean yanked it out of her flesh. She turned her furious yellow eyes on him and snarled. “Try it again, bitch,” Dean dared but she didn't, she started the same circling motion. Sam gained his senses and he rolled over to shoot her. He fired but she bounded away like the first.

 

“They have a strategy,” Sam deduced as he pushed himself up. They instinctively pushed back to back and caught glimpses of the werewolf women through the trees.

 

“You think?” Dean jeered and looked around for his gun. It was a few yards away from where the first lady tossed him like a frisbee. “Going for my gun.”

 

“I got ya,” Sam assured and Dean moved quickly and maybe there was a gap of 2 feet as Sam backed up with him so they wouldn't be blind sided. A few twigs and green leaves dropped too late above them and a third werewolf dropped between them, knocking Sam aside before turning for Dean. Dean turned and pulled off a wild shot at close range, catching the werewolf man in the shoulder. The werewolf shrieked but did not stop as it caught Dean in the throat and held him against the tree. Sharp yellowed teeth were bore and Dean's gun hand was grabbed and bent at an angle where Dean couldn't budge it or hit the werewolf. There were more growls that Dean couldn't see and the werewolf was opening his teeth to rip into him when there was two sharp shots and Dean's face was spattered with blood. The werewolf sagged, dropping off of Dean and Dean expected to see Sam, but Castiel was there instead. Castiel went down on one knee to pop the first werewolf lady in the head from several feet away, making her crumple on top of Sam. Sam shoved her off of him and sat up quickly, getting his gun.

 

“Cas, shit...” Dean had nothing after that. Castiel moved quickly over to Dean, looking down to the male werewolf and the body was still twitching; at least until Castiel sank another bullet into the chest.

 

“I discovered that a head shot will slow them down.” Castiel looked up at Dean. “But they still regenerate if you don't pierce the heart.” Dean was breathless for but a moment then he moved closer, resting a hand on Castiel's shoulder, looking serious.

 

“Y'see, this is why we need to stick together,” Dean told him and Castiel's face bunched up, as if to protest. “I need you as back up, you know.” The anger melted from Castiel's face. Dean grinned and lifted his gun over Castiel's other shoulder, shooting the bitch from earlier who liked to sneak up on Sam. He caught her in the back, piercing her heart. Castiel winced from the sharp bang and looked over to see another body crumble, “Sorry. I think we're done.” Castiel stared up at Dean and then he wiped his hand over Dean's face, smearing most of the blood away from Dean's mouth. “Yeah, yeah, I know-” Though maybe he didn't fully know because Castiel pressed up against Dean and kissed him hard, toppling Dean against the tree.

 

Sam squeezed one last shot into the heart of the one woman that had gotten the drop on him and turned around to find his companions making out heatedly against a tree. “Guys,” He said but they only pulled each other closer. “GUYS.” Dean broke off first but he was still gripping Castiel by the shoulders and Castiel looked back at Sam. Sam's arms waved out at the scene. “Werewolves.”

 

“Uh, right, werewolves.” Dean stood up from the tree and Castiel stood back. Castiel cleared his throat and stabilized himself with one leg, because one was bleeding, his pant leg soaked from the thigh down. “Three down.”

 

“Five down,” Castiel corrected. “Two of them ambushed me earlier.”

 

“Is that how you got cut?” Sam asked.

 

“I got thrown into some sharp rocks,” Castiel admitted. “No bites.”

 

“None here either,” Dean said and grinned at Sam. “Good thing no one called the police.”

 

“Well someone will when they find these bodies.” Sam sighed.

 

“Do you think that's all of them?” Castiel asked.

 

“I fucking hope so,” Dean said. “7 is way more than I was expecting on this trip.”

 

“I'm hoping they didn't change any more people.” Sam rubbed his sore arm. “But I sent five emails and five came. I think we're good.”

 

“Good.” Dean rubbed his head, which had been thoroughly knocked around. “I think I have a concussion.” They headed back to the Impala and Castiel had a limp to the injured leg. When Dean offered his arm for support, Castiel took it.

 

“Dean,” Castiel said as they were half way back to the parking lot. “Did you mean it when you said I was your back up.”

 

“Course I did.” Dean pulled Castiel's arm around his neck to support him as they walked. “I don't think you're weak, Cas, okay? Even if you are out of angel juice. I mean seriously, you took out two werewolves that ambushed you? You kick ass.” Castiel's face flushed with pride and a wide smile skittered across his face. “You know, if I say something stupid like that, you get to remind me that you saved my ass.”

 

“I will remind you.” Castiel lifted his head primly.

 

“Is that why you were pissed at me all week?” Dean asked.

 

“Yes.” Castiel nodded. “You doubted my ability to fight without my grace. I am a soldier.”

 

“Yes, yes, you are a soldier,” Dean agreed. Hell, if Castiel kissed him like THAT after just telling him he was back up, he'd tell Castiel he was Chuck Norris if he did it again in a bed, preferably with clothes off.


	40. Come Back Closer

“There,” Dean said once he was finished stitching and wrapping Castiel's thigh. Castiel had clenched his teeth, bit out small blasphemous phrases, and he'd been taking mouthfuls of whiskey from the bottle that Dean had given him; but finally it was done. “Congratulations, your first battle wound you can't heal from within an hour or so.” Castiel sighed and hugged the bottle of whiskey to his chest in relief. Castiel's pants had been stripped off and tossed into a blood dribbled pile that needed to be dealt with later. Dean was bare chested, spattered with bruises and scratch marks from the werewolves that dug their claws into him. Castiel found his eyes lingering more than usual on Dean's bare skin; it very well could have been the whiskey, but Castiel had no desire to blame it on the drink. Castiel passed Dean the whiskey when Dean's hand reached for it; Castiel's one arm was also wrapped up, having been cut open when he hit the rocks. “Let's not do this part again any time soon.”

 

“Which part?” Castiel leaned back against the head board, watching Dean drink from the bottle.

 

Dean sucked in air after the drink went down his throat and offered the bottle back to Castiel. “The getting our asses kicked by werewolves part.” Castiel waved his hand, declining more.

 

“I fear I'm already starting to feel it,” Castiel admitted, feeling his head sway with exhaustion. The adrenaline from fighting was starting to wane, he was starting to feel the aches and pains. They were such a nuisance. 

 

“Yeah, much stronger when you're human.” Dean took another swig and set it on the end table, where there was their small med kit. Sam had run out to get more first aid gear since he was the least injured; and food. They were going to need food to better heal up. Castiel shifted in his spot, rubbing his eyes. He let out a groan.

 

“I just slept a few hours ago.” Castiel sighed. “I shouldn't want to sleep again this soon.”

 

“Cas, we just took on a pack of werewolves, and won.” Dean leaned over Castiel a bit, kneeling on the bed. “The best part is that you get to sleep, and say 'fuck you werewolves, you're dead'.” The whiskey was perhaps having an effect on Dean as well. “Revel in the victory of still being alive, you know?”

 

“Yes, I know.” Castiel cupped Dean's neck with one hand and smiled up at him. So, he did revel. He pulled Dean down and kissed Dean's warm mouth; and Dean met him half way. It was long, lingering, and very missed. The parting was slow and sweet. Castiel leaned back against the head board, hand resting on Dean's shoulder. “This is how I want to revel.”

 

Dean blinked at Castiel for a moment before he leaned down, their lips touching again. They sank into a long kiss and only their breath eased them apart. Dean grinned slowly. “Have m _ercy_.”

 

“I still don't understand why asking for mercy is funny,” Castiel muttered but he wasn't answered, only swallowed up in kisses that grew deeper as Castiel pulled himself closer to Dean, losing himself in the sensations. It was so good to give in again; to want again. The past weeks had been torturous; Dean thinking less of him for being mortal revealed a bitterness Castiel didn't even know existed in him. Feeling Dean against him was refreshing. Even more so than the first time. Castiel slid down the headboard to the mattress, their mouths collaborating warmly instead of vying for attention. Dean's hand slid up Castiel's flat belly, under his shirt and tugging it over Castiel's head. Castiel's hands smoothed down Dean's hair fondly as Dean smiled at him before kissing him again.

 

It felt different; Castiel realized. He had been full of grace when they were last at this heated intersection. Castiel felt his vessel -his body- react more freely to the physical touch as a mortal. Perhaps it was the new found adrenaline from the hunt or the alcohol that buzzed in the back of his mind. There was also the now mild throbbing in his leg and the slight discomfort in his stomach from hunger, but kissing Dean felt much more important than resting. 

 

Dean pressed Castiel into the mattress with his body and Castiel groaned from the pressure of it; it felt good, even through a few of the bruises.

 

"Dean," Castiel breathed, hands gripping Dean's back, and feeling more aroused than he ever had been in his existence. "I want to have intercourse again." Dean actually paused and chuckled into Castiel's shoulder.

 

" _Intercourse_ , really, Cas?" Dean eyed him with amusement and Castiel, miffed and thinking Dean was making fun of him again, nipped at Dean's ear.

 

"Yes, intercourse," Castiel repeated an Dean pulled back enough to rub his ear and shoot Castiel a look of annoyance. "The activity of our bodies becoming one one in an intimate manner..."

 

"Sex. They call it sex." Dean ran a hand up Castiel's chest and Castiel lost his edge of annoyance with the touch, palm running over his nipple. Castiel's hand ran up Dean's arm and the hand slid down slowly as Dean leaned down to kiss him again, deeper than before. Dean's hand slid between Castiel's thighs and Castiel's good leg moved to encourage the touch. "Let's do it." Dean's deeply spoken words sent a wave of heat down Castiel's body, making him shiver. Castiel pulled himself up to Dean's lips, drawing Dean down again into heated kisses that he only enjoyed in such a way months ago...

 

The motel door squeaked loudly as it opened and both Castiel and Dean jerked up as Sam walked in with several paper bags in hand, "Dinner is serv..." Sam had only walked in a couple steps when he realized Dean and Castiel were positioned intimately. Sam did not even halt, he just made a full 180 degree turn back out the door; pulling the door closed after him with a sharp slam.

 

Castiel pursed his lips and looked up at Dean, who looked down at Castiel and there was hesitation, which Castiel dreaded. He'd waited months for this opportunity again.

 

"So... How hungry are you?" Dean asked curiously.

 

"Not very." Castiel tried to hint and thought maybe that was too subtle. "At all. Not at all."

 

"Me either." Dean leaned down and kissed Castiel with a deeper type of hunger. Castiel was flooded with relief and eagerly sank back into the kisses. 

 

There was very little talk after that. There was touching and kissing as Castiel tugged off Dean's pants with all of his eagerness; wanting more skin pressed against him. Castiel could not compare it fully to his first experience. The first time, they were slow, exploratory. It was a connection he'd never expected to have with Dean. This time there was more carnal intent on both their minds. To have Dean press and rub against him was a level of fevered ecstasy that he never expected from humans. He'd seen it from Heaven and in Heaven. The movement of bodies seemed absurd and the faces of humans in mid coitus was usually cause for great amusement.

 

Of course that was all before Castiel had a physical form; and before he felt Dean's hands and lips on him. Only then did he understand wanting and the pleasure of flesh that Dean was so enamored with. 

 

Castiel didn't think he'd ever get tired of Dean kissing him. He cupped Dean's face, long after their clothes were discarded and wasn't quite ready for Dean to leave the bed, even if it was to get lubrication and protection.

 

"Cas," Dean muttered into Castiel's mouth and Castiel interrupted Dean with another lingering kiss. "Come on, give me-", a kiss interrupted him, "Give me like two-" Two lingering kisses against Dean's grinning lips and Dean had had enough. He pressed Castiel into the bed by this shoulders, holding him at arm's length. "Goddamnit- Stay right there." Dean broke away from the bed to get to his bag; which now had proper lubrication among Dean's supplies. Dean rejoined Castiel with the bottle and a condom and thoroughly made up on the kisses he'd missed. Castiel groaned into the kiss, one leg curling around Dean's waist when he crawled back over him. 

 

"You been thinking about this too?" Dean asked as he popped open the bottle.

 

"More and more often," Castiel replied and he spread his legs when Dean started to press fingers into him. Castiel's injured leg twitched with the strain and Castiel remembered his pain tolerance being much higher with his grace. "Ah, Dean, slower." Castiel's fingers dug into Dean's shoulders and Dean slowed his prying. Dean complied, sliding two fingers in slower.

 

"You okay?" Dean's brow tightened in a familiar concerned look. Castiel smiled, his fingers grazing Dean's neck and jaw softly.

 

"We few humans just killed a pack of werewolves," Castiel reminded him and Dean glanced at his leg with mild consideration. Human, Castiel mused. Pains lingered and pleasures were unfathomable, it seemed.

 

"Yeah, I'm starting to feel it too." Dean eased the third finger into Castiel and moved his fingers with more intent. They pressed upwards and Castiel's body shuttered; ripples of pleasure sliding up his spine and his toes curled.

 

"Dean..." Castiel moaned breathlessly and Dean grinned.

 

"Better?" Dean had a cocky grin in place.

 

"Much." Castiel took the condom and tore the package open. He pushed himself up when Dean's fingers pulled free and he rolled the latex down Dean's ridged cock. Dean pressed several chaste kisses to distract Castiel and Castiel turned his head upwards to deepen it, pulling Dean with him as he laid down. Dean pressed into Castiel and they both groaned. Rejoining was unbelievably sweet after such a long absence and was satisfying in itself. It was not a slow or careful pace from months ago. It was fervent and heavy. Yet no less intimate or loving. Castiel's knees gripped Dean's waist and his hands pressed into Dean's thighs as their hips collided; fast and... dirty in a sense. There was very little elegance to their movements; not to mention the sounds that left Castiel, unabashed. The only way he didn't moan Dean's name was if Dean kissed him quiet; which he did often.

 

Unfortunately, the new laceration distracted Castiel from his pleasure enough to make the position uncomfortable. Castiel groaned in more pain after a few minutes of coupling. "Dean. My leg is being a hindrance." Dean groaned and slowed to a stop and Castiel panted, his leg dropping to the bed and he rubbed the bandages to ease the cramping. Dean lifted his head and sighed.

 

"Can you turn onto your side?" Dean asked and with a bit of maneuvering, Castiel was on his side where his injured leg could rest and Dean was laying behind him. Castiel moaned softly as Dean reentered him and his good leg could drape over Dean's. Dean's arms wrapped around him and a kiss was pressed into Castiel's shoulder and nape as they resumed. It was intimately comfortable.

 

Climaxes were the only thing to halt them. Dean groaned into Castiel's neck. Castiel panted heavily and leaned back, turning himself enough to kiss Dean's lips. Then human exhaustion followed and Dean cradled Castiel in his arms for a while.

 

"Guess we should have waited until we healed up," Dean suggested mildly and to his amusement, Castiel groaned in annoyance.

 

"I don't think I could have restrained myself another day," Castiel grumbled, his fingers threading through Deans, which rested over his ribs. 

 

"Yeah?" Dean smirked; it was good to hear he wasn't the only one thinking it.

 

"I've been thinking about it. Since the first time..." Castiel squeezed Dean's hand. "Wanting it startled me. And I wanted you..." Castiel halted himself, as though words got caught in his throat. Castiel looked away and Dean's smirk died.

 

"What?" Dean prompted and Castiel look a deep breath.

 

"I wanted you, to myself," Castiel finally said quietly, "and it's selfish and I presumed because of our night together..."

 

"Shh." Dean pressed into his back and Castiel went quiet. Dean hugged him tight enough it hurt, but Castiel didn't complain if it did. Those words sounded too familiar to Dean, it was almost painful to hear.

 

 _'I was foolish back then. I thought I could keep you to myself.'_ Future Castiel's words lingered in Dean's head.

 

Dean did not want future sex guru Castiel. He liked Castiel the way he was; soft and warm instead of broken and distant. He was not letting another future like that happening again. "Cas, you got me, so don't worry about that, okay?" Castiel looked back at Dean, the sharp blue in his eyes was clear and surprised. Dean dared to smile. “Come on Cas, don't turn those doe eyes on me. You're not going to get rid of me that easy.” Castiel deflated slightly and turned to cup Dean's jaw.

 

“The thought of not having you -as mine- gives me the sensation of being torn in two.” Castiel touched his forehead to Dean's, closing his eyes. “And I don't mean my grace. My very being.” Dean swallowed thickly, feeling himself wading into the depths of the moment. Even though they were beaten and bruised, the only important part was that they made it back together and Castiel was in his arms the right way. 

 

“Cas, what... exactly did you mean when you said 'official relationship'?” Dean finally asked the loaded question.

 

Castiel's eyes opened, looking up at Dean. “A monogamous one. I would like to marry you Dean.” Dean stared at Castiel and Castiel's eyes fluttered down. “I know you're a seeker of the flesh, a man who prefers casual sex with women...” Dean squeezed Castiel's hand.

 

“Cas, I just think you're jumping too far forward,” Dean said blatantly and Castiel turned those sad blue eyes on him. Dean ran his thumb over Castiel's fingers. “Let's start something smaller, like dating.” Castiel gave a crest fallen look.

 

“Does that mean we have to stop having sex?” Castiel asked.

 

Dean's mouth fell open a moment. “Wha-NO. Fuck no. Absolutely not.” 

 

Castiel sighed in relief. “Good, because I do not wish to wait several months again.”

 

“We'll have more sex.” A grin broke out on Dean's face. “As much as you can handle.”

 

“Monogamous sex?” Castiel cautiously eyed Dean. Dean paused, but the fact was that he hadn't done anyone else since the world started to fall apart. And well, if Castiel did get a hint of Sex Guru, he hoped it was the hot-insatiable-sex part of it. 

 

“Yeah, you and me,” Dean agreed. A smile finally broke out on Castiel's face, taking a deep breath. Castiel kissed him, warm and sweet.

 

“If I was not injured, I would have liked to do this again,” Castiel murmured blissfully. 

 

“Yeah, me too.” Dean sighed, enjoying the warmth for the rare moment. “But let's clean up and let Sam in with food.” Castiel looked caught between accepting or declining, but Dean only stole another kiss to distract him and rolled out of bed. A soft smile spread out on Castiel's face.

 

“Pass the whiskey?” Castiel asked and Dean smiled a bit, remembering future Castiel had asked him for the same thing. But thankfully, Castiel wasn't in mourning; just in physical pain.

 

The dirty blanket was stripped off and tossed in the corner and they redressed; or at least the bed sheet was put on in Castiel's case. Dean donned pants and a shirt before he texted his brother that the room was safe.

 

Sam entered the room more cautiously this time and gave a pointed glare to Dean. “You could warn me before you guys do that.”

 

“You don't stop in the middle of a situation like that to text your brother,” Dean argued and held out a hand for his long waited food. Sam handed over the whole food bag; having eaten his own food whilst waiting.

 

“Do you guys need the motel room tonight or something? Because I can call Gabriel,” Sam offered.

 

Dean rolled his eyes. “We don't need-”

 

“Yes.” Castiel cut in and both brothers looked at the man in bed. Castiel shrugged. “Dean and I do not get alone time and nor do you with Gabriel. So, resting up after a hunt is a good time to recuperate with our respected lovers.” Sam and Dean both exchanged cautious looks.

 

“He has a point,” Sam said with tentative optimism. Dean sighed, still getting used to the idea of Sam gallivanting off with an archangel. 

 

“Yeah, go visit your boyfriend,” Dean finally groused and a smile slid onto Sam's face.

 

“Great, um, let me know when we head home.” Sam pulled out his cell phone and stepped outside to make his phone call. Dean brought the food bag over to the bed, a frown on his face.

 

“Really, Cas?” Dean asked and Castiel nodded. “It's Gabriel.”

 

“Sam has been wanting to see Gabriel again for several days as well. Gabriel can not hover over us or he will attract attention to himself and us.” Castiel reached out and took Dean's hand with a smile. “And you are also much more affectionate without Sam around.” Dean sat next to Castiel.

 

“Eh,” Dean argued with a grunt and stole a quick kiss to Castiel's confident smile. “Eat your burger.”


	41. As American as Apple Pie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (5.15 Dead Men don't Wear Plaid)

“You roll out the crust like this, see?” Karen Singer gently started rocking the rolling pin on the pile of dough on the counter and Nemamiah stood higher on the wooden chair to get a good look. She had obeyed her father, her wings were tucked to look less angel-like, but she felt like she was trapping two perfectly good limbs for nothing. Karen was nice. “Now you try.” Karen moved aside and Nemamiah put her hands on the wooden roller, pushing it back and forth with more force. The older woman laughed when the dough started bunching up and was rolled far too thin. “Not so hard, dear. Gently. We're making it nice and smooth.” Nemamiah lightened her touch and it bunched up less. Karen chuckled and took over, smoothing out the details and folding over the dough where it had been rolled too thin. “Not bad for your first time baking.”

 

“Thank you.” Nemamiah watched Karen's smoother, almost mechanical motion on the flour covered counter. The smell of warm cinnamon apples tempted her from a bowl near by. “My dad likes to buy pie. I've never seen anyone bake it.” The food they had brought at the department store was quick cook items and canned foods. Lots of canned foods. “Uncle Bobby or Uncle Sam usually buys food from restaurants.” Karen's lips curled into a knowing smiled.

 

“Oh well, nothing like a woman's touch to keep the boys healthy.” Karen placed the pie tin near by and gently peeled the dough from the counter and showed Nemamiah how to lay it in the pan. “Men normally don't keep a tidy area or cook good healthy foods.”

 

“Uncle Sam buys lots of vegetables. Father too.” Nemamiah remembered the large red apples she'd gotten at the store. The ones Karen was using were different; tart rather than sweet. But really good with cinnamon. Bobby ate what was easiest, something quick so he could continue going. “Uncle Bobby needs better food.” 

 

Karen chuckled. “Yes, yes he does. And less beer. But one step at a time.” Karen showed Nemamiah how to press the crust down into the corners gently and allowed the young girl to do the same to half the pan, though finger prints showed up along the sides. Karen let it be.

 

“You're good at this.” Nemamiah admired the smooth cut of the knife as it slid along the edge of the pie tin, cutting away the ribbon of extra dough.

 

“I've had a long time to practice,” Karen said wistfully. “When you do something for a long time, it almost becomes ingrained in you.” She set down the knife and pulled the bowl of filling closer, holding up a large spoon. “Would you like to fill the pan?”

 

“Yes!” Nemamiah bounced on the chair and dusted her floured hands on her already covered clothes and took the offered spoon. She started to dollop the spiced apples into the center of the pan until she was signaled to stop. Nemamiah watched Karen pull out more dough to be rolled; and she let Nemamiah try her rolling pin skills again.

 

Nemamiah liked Karen Singer. She had arrived a couple days ago and Bobby had told Nemamiah not to tell Uncle Sam, her dad, or her father that Karen was there. Nemamiah was unsure about keeping things from her father, but she just did not include Miss Singer in what they usually did. It was difficult though. Especially when Karen cleaned the house so it smelled nice and started to organize as though she'd lived there for years. It all felt off though, because Karen had a strange lack of energy surrounding her and her skin was pale and chilled.

 

“Aunt Karen, how did you die?” Nemamiah remembered the slight piece of information that Bobby's wife had been killed.

 

Karen paused, fork in hand because she was ready to crimp the top of the pie with the crust. She gave Nemamiah a side long glance and sighed heavily. She glanced at the kitchen doors, where they were open, but Bobby was doing research for people that called. “It's not a very happy story,” Karen stated, just above a whisper. She then started to push the ring of the crusts together. Nemamiah watched the fluid movement with childish fascination.

 

“I don't mind if it's a sad story.” Nemamiah picked one of the apple slices from the filling bowl and Karen tapped her wrist with the fork with a light smile on her pale lips.

 

“No picking at the filling,” She chided but Nemamiah was allowed the small morsel to chew. “You'll spoil dinner.” Nemamiah licked her fingers clean, basking in the taste of crisp apples and warm cinnamon syrup. 

 

“Okay.” She watched the large A that was carved in the middle for 'apple'. Then Karen started slicing the top with little N's so that they knew it was the pie Nemamiah had helped with.

 

“I was, well... possessed,” Karen said softly.

 

“By a demon?” Nemamiah asked. Castiel had informed her briefly on demons. Karen grimaced but nodded

 

“It's sad that someone so young knows of them.” She only paused when the pie was in the oven, 30 seconds before the previous pie was golden brown. Karen removed the first pie with an worn blue oven mitt and placed it on top of the cooler coils of the oven. Karen turned off the timer and reset it to bake the new pie before the chime went off. The counter and windowsill was already crowded with pies. “Simply put, Bobby was only trying to protect himself. I don't blame him for it.” Nemamiah stood quietly and watched Karen move about, getting out different pans for dinner.

 

“Why didn't he exorcize you?” Nemamiah asked simply.

 

“Oh sweetie, neither Bobby or I knew anything about demons or anything abnormal like that.” Karen gave a sad smile. “I'm just glad I didn't hurt him.” Nemamiah nodded in acknowledgment. Karen gave her a warm smile. “Now, have you ever had homemade lasagna?” Nemamiah shook her head and Karen's hands gave an excited shake and started looking around the kitchen shelves. “I think you'll love it. I haven't made it in ages though. Now, where did that man put my recipe box?”

 

“Can I help?” Nemamiah asked hopefully.

 

“Of course, dear.” Karen set a pot on the stove next to the new pie and the phone started to ring as she started looking for the recipes. Nemamiah looked over at the phones on the wall. “That must be Bobby's friends again.” Nemamiah checked the time and hopped from the chair.

 

“Father always calls at six.” Nemamiah pulled herself upon the counter and picked up the phone that was singing. Her face lit up with the sound of Castiel's voice. “Hi Father.” Nemamiah said into the receiver and she saw Bobby roll into the kitchen to see who was calling. “Did you get all the werewolves?”

 

“Yes, our task is complete.” Castiel sounded less tired than the night before. “The people in this town should be safe regardless for the next three weeks. Last night I smote three werewolves and Dean and Sam each smote one.”

 

“So Uncle Sam smote two, Dad smote two, and Father smote three.” Nemamiah accounted for the whole trip.

 

“Yes, it was a long week,” Castiel agreed proudly, as though there was a silent competition that had been in place the whole time; and he'd won it.

 

“Stop bragging,” Dean muttered, close to the ear piece.

 

“How has your day been, Nemamiah?” Castiel seemed to ignore Dean in the background.

 

“I'm doing well.” Nemamiah kicked her legs back and forth, watching Bobby roll over to Karen to talk to her about dinner and recipe boxes. “We watched TV, searched through books, and then started baking pies.” Castiel was quiet a moment.

 

“...Bobby is baking pies?” Castiel asked slowly

 

“Bobby can't bake for shit,” Dean said without thought.

 

“He can't?” Nemamiah asked and covered her mouth, she hadn't known that. Bobby glanced at her with a slight bug eyes look. “Oops”

 

“Nemamiah, who is baking pies?” Castiel asked. Nemamiah's hand drifted down from her mouth. She was not good at this lying thing.

 

“Um... Aunt Karen,” Nemamiah admitted and Bobby rolled over to her, hand reaching out for the phone.

 

“Nemamiah, Karen Singer is several years dead,” Castiel told her, his voice becoming strained.

 

“I know,” Nemamiah said and Bobby waved his hand for the phone. “Uncle Bobby wishes to speak to you.”

 

“You stay on the line, young lady.” Castiel's voice was commanding and Nemamiah's hand did not move to hand over the phone. Her father sounded a little scary at the moment. “If Karen is dead, why is she baking pie?” Nemamiah's flickered to Bobby, then to the wall before she spoke rather quickly.

 

“We got lots of apples yesterday and Aunt Karen said they would be great for pie, so I think that's why we're making apple instead of peach cobbler. And Uncle Bobby really wants to talk to you, so I'll let you two talk it out.” She pushed the phone into Bobby's hand and hopped off the counter before Castiel could say otherwise. She had no clue why Karen was baking pie in the kitchen besides the fact that Bobby and Karen were married, and she just died for a while, but now she was back. Nemamiah climbed back onto her chair, where Karen had set the pot to boil water and started to explain how they were going to stack the lasagna pan. Bobby had a heated conversation with Castiel, and then Dean by the sound of it before Bobby rubbed his hand down his face and held the phone away from his head.

 

“Miah, your dad wants to talk to you,” Bobby told her and Nemamiah returned to the counter and put the corded phone back to her ear.

 

“Hi, Dad,” Nemamiah said tentatively, hoping they weren't still strict sounding.

 

“Miah.” Dean was speaking as evenly as possible. “We're heading back right now, so you try to stay away from that zombie.” Nemamiah frowned.

 

“But dad, we're making lasagna,” she defended meekly.

 

“I don't care... lasagna?” Dean paused and the some shuffling in the background, and then a muffled repeat of Dean relaying that information to Castiel.

 

“Yes, I've never had it before.” She twisted the springy cord on the phone. “Aunt Karen is really nice. She showed me how to make pie and corn bread.” She glanced at Bobby and Karen, who were talking as Karen was placing the noodles in the pot. She looked content while Bobby was trying to talk seriously with her.

 

“She's not trying to hurt you? You know, eat you?” Dean asked.

 

“Nuh-uh.” Nemamiah shook her head.

 

“Just... just be careful. We're heading back over ASAP.”

 

“Okay,” Nemamiah agreed. “What's ASAP?”

 

“As soon as possible,” Dean huffed, “and if she does come at you, or even start to scare you, you go tell Bobby and you stay safe.” Nemamiah's head tilted in confusion. She'd never heard Dean sound so grave before. And she did not understand how Karen could be dangerous, she was only brought back from the dead. Castiel had told her all of them had been dead before; why was Karen any different? Karen was one of the nicest people she'd ever met. 

 

“Okay, Dad,” Nemamiah confirmed because she doubted Karen would hurt anyone. “I'll stay safe.”

 

“Okay, good, now, your father looks like he's about to rip off my arm if I don't let him talk to you. See you soon, sunshine.”

 

“Bye, Dad.” She looked over at Karen who waved at her with a smile and Bobby had rolled back into the Library.

 

“Nemamiah.” Castiel sounded less scary, but still agitated.

 

“Father,” Nemamiah acknowledged, rocking back and forth on her heals.

 

“There are large, sharp knives in the kitchen, most of which are silver plated, in case you have to defend yourself,” Castiel told her and Nemamiah with held a sigh. “Bobby's room has a shotgun under the bed along with a little ammunition, so be mindful and aim for the head for zombies...”

 

“Cas.” Dean could be heard with a mix of being impressed and surprised.

 

“And if all fails, hide in the panic room and fly high until we arrive.”

 

“Yes, Father,” she said and looked to Karen again, who was coating the pan in lard. “I have to go help with dinner.”

 

“Okay.” Castiel's voice was tight. “I'll call in regularly.”

 

“Okay, bye,” Nemamiah replied.

 

“I'll see you soon.” Castiel promised.

 

“See you soon,” Nemamiah returned and hung up the phone. Karen smiled as Nemamiah hopped up on the chair once more.

 

“You have two dads?” Karen inquired cautiously, having gathered that much from conversations she'd heard around the house.

 

“Yes, father and dad.” Nemamiah watched the noodles go soft and dance around in the pot. “They are concerned with my well being. Dad is a hunter who was in Hell and father used to be an angel, that brought him back to Earth. And Father fell for Dad.” A large smile crept upon Karen's mouth.

 

“Oh well that is touching,” she said. “They are good parents?”

 

“The best,” Nemamiah said proudly.

 

“That's good.” Karen held up a jar with sauce. “Do you think they'll make it for dinner?”

 

“Maybe breakfast,” Nemamiah told her and took the offered spoon.

 

“I'll make extra oatmeal then. You want to layer the sauce in the bottom, good and thick.” Karen set the jar on the counter and Nemamiah started to dollop it into the pan. 

 

“Looks like guts.” she giggled, feeling that her fathers were all worried over nothing.


	42. Undead Making Breakfast

Nemamiah slept in the spare room on a cot because Bobby didn't want her taking his bed since Karen was supposed to sleep there. It was not as nice, or as comfortable, as the nice full sized bed so she awoke sleepy eyed and missing the warmth of her parents near by several times a night. A pile of blankets did not make up for their absence. She often awoke to any noise outside or every creek of the house. She walked into the library in her blue and green striped PJs; the ones Sam had cut slits in the back for when ever she wanted her wings out. She had them out while sleeping and they helped warm her, but now they were squeezed back out of sight, making her roll her shoulders. A large table had been set there since Karen's arrival and Bobby was was already up, hair combed nicely and a bowl of oatmeal before him.

"Good morning, Uncle Bobby," she greeted with half a yawn.

"Mornin'," Bobby replied with a before morning coffee voice and Nemamiah padded towards the kitchen, where Karen was humming a tune at the stove, where two pots were on the surface. Nemamiah already smelled the warm caramelized berries in the room.

"Good morning, Aunt Karen." Nemamiah gazed at all the pies that had appeared over night. There was at least another counter full.

"Good morning, dear," Karen greeted her with a smile. "Did you sleep well?" Nemamiah shook her head.

"I woke up a lot. The cot is uncomfortable." Nemamiah pushed her chair back over to the counter so that she could climb up and see what Karen was making.

"Again? I'm sorry about that." Karen had a sad tone in her voice. "We rarely ever had guests. And... well, Bobby and I never set up a kid's room."

"It's okay. Did you sleep well?" Nemamiah looked into the pot with creamy cooked oats and then the other, where Karen was mixing a berry filling.

"Oh well, I couldn't sleep," Karen admitted guiltily. "I closed my eyes and laid down, but I could not for the life of me sleep. So I got up early and did a little more baking." 

Nemamiah nodded, looking around again. "Where's my pie?"

"It should be over on the counter, next to the refrigerator." Karen said and Nemamiah lifted her head, spotting the pie between two others, the small N's catching her attention.

"Can I have it for breakfast?" Nemamiah asked eagerly. Karen looked around, as though realizing how much baking she had done for the first time.

"Oh Heavens..." She chuckled. "Well, I don't see why not. You can have a slice of pie with your breakfast." Nemamiah smiled brightly. "You may as well bring a slice to Bobby as well. He's been a bit sour since yesterday."

"Okay," Nemamiah agreed and after she ran her bowl of oatmeal to the table, she also brought herself and Bobby each an eighth of pie.

"Pie in the morning?" Bobby asked as Nemamiah scooted herself into her seat and took up a fork.

"You are sour, so you need something sweet." Nemamiah started to stab open the crust and a hint of a smile stirred in Bobby's whiskers.

"Well you're sweet enough, so maybe you don't need pie so early," he suggested and Nemamiah's eyes widened as her fork was half way to her mouth. Her bottom lip curled into a horrified pout.

"But, but... pie," she said sadly and Bobby chuckled.

"God, yer a chip off of Dean, for sure. I'm kidding, have your pie."

Nemamiah smiled and took the first bite of her breakfast. She ate the top layer of crust and started to spoon in the filling to her oatmeal; which was plain and bland. Karen snuck in and kissed Bobby's cheek while he was distracted by Nemamiah's creative eating habits.

"And you said you'd be bad with kids,” she teased and Bobby have a strained sort of smile, because it would have been a warm sentiment if the kiss had had any warmth and if his wife wasn't already dead.

-

Castiel was the first one into Bobby's house when the Impala had pulled into the Singer lot. Dean had not even fully brought Baby to a halt before Castiel was unbuckling himself and nearly tripped on the porch. Any other situation Dean may have laughed at it, but he was second in after, Sam trailing not far behind.

Nemamiah was halfway through her breakfast when Castiel stormed in, .45 in hand and looking absolutely ready to use it if there was trouble. Nemamiah blinked up at Castiel, never having seen her father look... well, frightening.

"Good morning, father." Her voice was meek; she almost felt she'd done something wrong. Castiel fixated on her and most of his fierceness drained away. He strode over to her and wrapped his arms around her, bringing her into a tight hug. Nemamiah hugged back, somewhat confused but the warmth from her barer was comforting. Dean and Sam were both in the doorway, looking at Bobby. Karen popped in from the kitchen and observed the tense scene.

"Oh, hello." She looked at Castiel and then to the Winchesters in the doorway. "Would you like some breakfast? We have oatmeal and pie." Castiel's grip tightened on his gun and he stared at Karen with the protectiveness of a mother bear.

Sam moved first, stealthily hiding his gun behind his back and offering a civilized smile. "Uh, yes, please?" Karen nodded and started getting out more bowls for their guests. Bobby was holding his head in his hand and Sam moved over to him. "Bobby, what the Hell is going on?" Sam asked in a hushed breath and leaned against the table.

"Look, just get yer breakfast first. She ain't hurt anyone. Just settle down," Bobby whispered and after a few looks between Dean, Sam, and Castiel. Sam took up a seat next to Bobby, a stressed look upon his face.

Dean tugged on Castiel's shirt and Castiel stared at Dean like he was crazy but one firm look got Castiel to loosen his grip but not before one more firm hug to his daughter.

"You are alright, aren't you?" Castiel said with an even voice as he pulled up a seat next to her and Dean pulled up a seat on the other side of Nemamiah, between her and Bobby.

"Yes, father." Nemamiah pointed to the slice of pie. "Look, I helped make this one yesterday." Castiel glanced at the remains of pie crust and the half gone oatmeal tinted with apple filling.

"I see." Castiel was lost for civil words.

Everyone was brought pie and a bowl of oatmeal and then Bobby asked for some privacy. Nemamiah swirled the oatmeal around in her bowl because it became very tense as soon as Karen closed the door. Castiel sat straight and did not touch the pie or the bowl. Dean and Sam however could at least seem to eat a little while they were there and discussed the fact that Karen was already very dead and that Bobby didn't know why she was back. They also discussed that there were other zombies that had come back as well. 

Castiel stood up near the end of the conversation. He did not want to hear the rest. "Nemamiah, let us go get your things." Nemamiah frowned, brows coming together in confusion.

"But why?" She asked and her father gestured for her to stand as he was already heading upstairs. Though this time at a slower pace, with a slight limp. She slid from her seat and Dean watched them go upstairs before he returned to the conversation.

"Because we're going to the motel in town," Castiel said once Nemamiah corrected him where her things were; no longer in Bobby's room. He started collecting her clothes and putting them back in her duffel. "Bobby's wife is undead." Castiel took out enough clothes for Nemamiah to dress herself and encouraged his daughter to do so. As soon as possible.

"But you, dad and Uncle Sam were brought back to life," she reasoned as she was dressing and Castiel was checking the room for any left over items. "Aunt Karen is the same."

"This is different," Castiel informed her, zipping up the bag once Nemamiah's PJs were in it. "This is unnatural. Can you not feel it?" Nemamiah slowly nodded. Yes, there was something... off. Something that made Nemamiah weary at first upon meeting Karen; who was ashened but smiled kindly. But Nemamiah didn't think that just because someone felt off that they were dangerous.

"But she's nice," Nemamiah said softly.

"Undead have a natural hunger for the living," Castiel told her, though not harshly. He brushed his fingers through her hair and leaned down to kiss her upturned brow. "You don't even know how to use your grace as defense."

"Aunt Karen is nice," Nemamiah repeated softly. "We made lasagna together and it was so good..."

"I have no doubt she's been kind or I'd have shot her upon my arrival," Castiel said sternly but he softened when Nemamiah looked up at him, distressed. "We are going to keep you safe and I will train you how to defend yourself. If she does not hurt anyone, then there is no reason to kill her, alright?" Nemamiah nodded slowly.

"Okay," she whispered and took her father's offered hand as they walked back downstairs.

Dean and Sam were by the door but Nemamiah broke off at the library, dropping her bag. He trotted over to Bobby, who got a tight hug around the neck, regardless if he was ready or not. "I have to go, Uncle Bobby," she said as he relaxed and patted her back.

"Yeah, you take care, Miah," he said gruffly and then she went into the kitchen.

"I have to go, Aunt Karen," she announced long before she ran up to hug her around the waist. Karen smiled and gave the young girl a hug back. The lack of heat did not bother Nemamiah so much, even though it felt like hugging a pillow; one that got warm the longer you hugged it.

"Alright, you take care," Karen said easily. "It was nice to meet you."

"You too," Nemamiah said, holding on longer than long-enough for Dean to peek in to get her.

"Come on, Miah," he said. "Cas is gonna have a fit if he's got to wait any longer." Nemamiah finally loosened her grip and waved as she followed Dean, taking his warm hand as it was offered.


	43. Training Debates

Compared to Bobby's bed, the motel beds were also uncomfortable, Nemamiah decided. But they were better than the creaky cot that wheezed every time she moved. The night had been much better for Nemamiah when she was wrapped up and warm between both her sires. She woke up more refreshed than she had all week. Her fathers both chased away any of the strange sounds and movements that awoke her at Bobby's. Dean and Sam had left the next morning to check out the town. They were checking on the zombie situation again, as though patrolling the town. Dean and Castiel seemed to be happier towards one another since she'd last seen them. There was still tension, but Dean and Castiel were put at ease just by looking at each other. 

The day after leaving Bobby's house, Castiel was showing her how to use a sword. He showed her his angel sword, which he now kept in his weapons bag. It was surprisingly light and small, but the energy it was imbued with was ancient and felt very much like her uncle Gabriel. She did not practice with it though. She used a stick that they'd picked up outside. Castiel demonstrated with his own where to stab, where to cut, and where to hit. It left her uneasy when Castiel reminded her that a zombie needed their head shot or removed.

Dean and Sam returned around the same time that Castiel was showing her how guns functioned and they were sorting pieces over their bed. 

“Already showing her the fire power?” Dean asked warily as he was setting lunch on the counter. 

“I think it's important until I have the strength and time to show her how to use her grace.” Castiel snapped the last few pieces of the bullet chambers back together. Nemamiah did the same with the same model that was in her hands, the pieces sliding together like a heavy metal puzzle. Dean made a discontent sound. “How did your investigation go?”

“We have more than Bobby's wife to worry about,” Sam informed them and Nemamiah glanced up as Sam walked over to them, with styrofoam containers in hand. Nemamiah hadn't eaten for hours, but all the talk of zombies and training had left her a little nauseous. Castiel took his offered container from Sam and then Nemamiah's when she refused hers with the shake of her head. “One of them even took revenge for killing him.”

“Turns out he's still a tax payer.” Dean rolled his eyes and sat on the bed with Castiel and Nemamiah, “Aren't you hungry, Miah?” Nemamiah plopped the gun to the other side of the bed, away from her.

“Nu-uh,” she said, even as Dean was starting to munch on a good looking burger.

“Dean, I was wondering if there was a shooting range near by, actually,” Castiel said as he was digging his fork into the salad and Sam was doing the same on his bed. Dean paused, glancing at Castiel.

“It's probably not a good idea to practice while there are zombies around,” Dean mentioned, and glanced at Nemamiah, who sat cross legged with wings half folded.

“Well I'd like Nemamiah to practice while it's still calm.” Castiel stayed reasonable.

“I just don't think now is a good time,” Dean said, trying to be civil.

“And just when would be a good time?” Castiel straightened his back, raising his brows at Dean. Nemamiah took that as her cue to move from between them and sat next to Sam on his bed. Sam gave her a sympathetic look and offered her one of the tomatoes from his salad; and since it was red, she took it and popped it into her mouth.

“Look, Cas, I really don't think she needs to be trained right now.” Dean put down his burger to speak. Nemamiah chewed and her nose wrinkled slightly. Tomato wasn't a bad taste, but it wasn't a good one either. Sam smiled at her reaction. But she swallowed it none the less, deciding tomatoes were better as ketchup.

“Right now or do you mean at all?” Castiel asked pointedly.

“She's still a kid, Cas,” Dean told him, volume growing slightly louder. “We can protect her.”

“I want her to learn to protect herself,” Castiel said firmly. “All angels are taught to fight after they are split.”

“She's not all angel, Cas.”

“You both were going to take Jesse and train him. He was part human as well.”

“Jesse was effecting a whole town with his powers and he needed to learn how to control them.”

“Nemamiah is the same way.”

“She's nothing like Jesse. Nemamiah doesn't make tooth fairies out of thin air.”

“Dean, it's a necessity.”

“It's not a necessity when we got three good shots in the same room.”

“Dean,” Castiel sounded as though his patience was running thin, “we are in the middle of the apocalypse.”

“And we're working on stopping the apocalypse,” Dean returned. “It's not Miah's job to fight.”

Nemamiah straightened her back, tired of the slowly inclining argument. It was like the one at Bobby's, but this time she understood what her father was trying to teach her. “I don't want to fight.” Castiel's return argument died on his tongue.

“What?” Castiel looked startled.

“I don't want to fight,” Nemamiah said, feeling all of their attention on her. “Aunt Karen is a nice lady, and she is a zombie, and I don't want to hurt her. I don't want anyone to hurt her. She makes good food and she cleans Bobby's house. She takes care of Bobby...” Tears burned her eyes and her fingers dug into her pants. “I don't like it when you talk about hurting anyone.” It was quiet for a moment and then Dean made a gesturing motion to Nemamiah while looking at Castiel.

“See, she doesn't want to,” Dean backed his daughter up. Sam stared at Dean. Castiel looked as though he'd been slapped in the face by the both of them, and then all three of them when Sam waved his hands, as though staying out of it. Castiel shut the lid of his food container and put it aside. He drew himself up.

“Fine,” Castiel ground out before he looked at Dean. “Of all people, I thought you would understand why this is important.” Castiel gathered his gun and his gun bag and headed towards the door.

“Cas, where are you going?” Dean watched Castiel open the door.

“To shoot something.” Castiel shut the door with more force than necessary. 

Nemamiah looked up at her uncle and whispered, “Is father mad at me?” She didn't like this side of Castiel.

“No, no.” Sam shook his head and pet her hair. “He's mad at your dad.”

Dean scrubbed his face with his hands. “Again.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “He better not shoot anyone yet.”

“I'm sure he won't,” Sam assured him and looked at Nemamiah, who was still down-trodden. “Hey, do you... well, you can read, right?” Sam pushed himself up when Nemamiah nodded. There was a TV in their room but Sam really hated to see Nemamiah sitting there like a potato. Most of their books were research but Sam had his own collection of literature; some never returned to a library. He picked out an old battered copy of Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes and passed it to her. If she was anything like Castiel, she would be able to understand it. She looked at it and she slowly opened the first page, her eyes started flickering across the words. Sam then went over to Dean and sat down next to his brother.

“I don't need you lecturing me too.” Dean threw Sam a glare. “And Miah doesn't want to fight anyway.” Sam shrugged, not looking like he wanted to fight or lecture.

“I'm just surprised,” Sam said after a moment. “Dad never gave us the choice.” Dean glanced over at Nemamiah and then to Sam. 

“Yeah, I know,” Dean said lowly but couldn't fully shake the feeling in his belly that he didn't fully disagree with Castiel. But he just couldn't unremember his dad teaching Sam to hunt when he didn't want to or the look in his mom's eyes when she told him she never wanted the hunting life for them.


	44. Angel Training

Castiel let off his steam. Not by shooting anything -or anyone- but a long walk through the town evened out his temper. His gun stayed in his bag, even as he passed two undead walking about. They weren't mindlessly dragging their corpses about, but talking on the cell phone and another was shopping with a close friend. It was... bizarre and Castiel itched to dispatch them. But at the moment they weren't an obvious threat, and Dean was continuously egging him to blend in. Humans just didn't accept violence if the threat wasn't obvious.

 

So he returned back to the motel after an hour and eased everyone's mind that no, he had not recklessly gone zombie hunting. Nemamiah looked more relieved than anyone. Castiel didn't know how to stress to her the dire consequence of letting the undead roam. Partial anger was at Dean, for not supporting him in teaching their daughter how to fight; but then there was a lot of anger towards Bobby and his wife. Bobby ignored the fact that Karen was undead and had cultivated sympathy in Nemamiah for a dead woman who taught his daughter to make pies and clean Bobby's house. 

 

It was Castiel's job, as her father, to teach Nemamiah everything she needed to know. And if Dean wouldn't show her human ways, Castiel was going to have to bite his tongue and push through the headache to teach her angelic powers. He'd transferred most of his general knowledge about the world with the first touch after her split. He then transferred knowledge in little bits to answer her mental questions at Bobby's; they were taxing though. Most had also been world related. Where where they? Who was she? What was she? Who was Castiel? Who was Dean? All answers slowly stressed Castiel's brain and edged him closer to that headache.

 

Reasonably, he thought the amount of knowledge he shared was taxing without grace. He thought it was also harder because he was recovering from the split. Perhaps he'd been recovering from some sort of shock of being human.

 

Showing Nemamiah how to hide her wings was the last thing he'd taught her, and that was when it really started. The burning ache behind his eyes, the one that made his vision blurry and made him want to groan in pain and sleep for days. Teaching her more complicated things was going to be harder, he hypothesized. But, he thought, if that was the worse of the pain, then she could be taught over time. It would be even faster if he trained her how to heal humans, and then she could ease his mental trauma. He was determined to teach her and went to bed with Nemamiah in his arms and Dean sleeping soundly with a gentle touch.

 

“So you don't mind staying here?” Dean asked the next morning; probably sounding confused because Castiel had been so insistent on going on the hunt for werewolves. Sam and Dean were getting ready for a low key scout to check on the zombies. 

 

“I think it's important that I stay with Nemamiah for the day,” Castiel said firmly. “I may not be training her, but it's crucial that I protect her if she can not protect herself.” Dean had the decency to look guilty for a moment before he sighed.

 

“Yeah, alright,” Dean agreed, not protesting it much. If Castiel wasn't going to stay behind then one of the brothers were, but Castiel could see how anxious both were about the zombie situation and their concern for Bobby; especially Dean. Castiel was more concerned about Nemamiah than protecting the people of the town; and he did not feel bad for it. It greatly worked in Castiel's favor.

 

After Sam and Dean left, Castiel ordered breakfast to be delivered. Nemamiah ate enthusiastically, devouring a short stack of pancakes and eggs at their motel room table. 

 

“After we eat, I'd like to teach you how to use your grace,” Castiel said and Nemamiah paused with a fork full of scrambled eggs to her mouth.

 

“Dad said it was okay that I don't train,” she said cautiously and Castiel, again, mentally uttered blasphemous phrases along with Dean's name.

 

“Grace is ingrained into your being,” Castiel told her. “Being unable to access it would be a fatal disadvantage.” She looked wary, beginning to poke at her remaining cherry syrup covered bread. Castiel remembered very little of his first few years of existence, but he did remember naivety and the inability to grasp the concept that living beings had a fear of dying. Only after Castiel fought and witnessed angels burned into the ground did he understand what death was; what danger was. Castiel moved to a different tactic. “I want to teach you how to heal living creatures.” Helping God's planet was as ingrained into an angel as flying.

 

Nemamiah looked back to Castiel, interest appearing in her green eyes. “Heal living creatures?”

 

“Yes,” Castiel agreed. “You have the ability to do so. Grace is not just for fighting. Grace is used to help people. Healing being the most proficient. Purging the body of pain and disease.” Nemamiah mulled it over, sticking her fork in her mouth in heavy consideration. “I know the power that you've exhibited has been instinctual, but healing is not something one stumbles upon. It would be beneficial; perhaps not for you directly, but Sam, Dean, and I have been, and most likely will again, get injured in the future.” Nemamiah sat up and nodded. Castiel smiled. He found it endearing that the prospect of helping others was her point of interest rather than helping herself. She was so much Dean's daughter.

 

“Teach me,” she said. “I want to learn to heal everyone.”

 

“After breakfast,” Castiel said and she ate quickly again. Castiel was eager to teach her, even if he knew there would be pain. He felt it would be worth it; a fair price to pay for teaching his daughter an essential power that could lead her to full acknowledgment of her abilities.

 

They cleaned up and Castiel sat on their bed, gesturing Nemamiah to stand before him. 

 

“It should be akin to hiding your wings,” he told her. She nodded and stood obediently; hands behind her back and feathers fluttering excitedly.

 

“I'm ready,” she said and Castiel rested his fingers on her head and closed his eyes. He only gathered the knowledge of healing together in his mind and pushed to towards Nemamiah's.

 

The sensation of white hot iron being shoved into Castiel's skull struck him hard. It seared from behind his eyes and ripped through the back of his head. Castiel pressed his hands to his face, bracing himself through the pain as though it was a physical heat. The pain was great enough that his body trembled and a sound of pain escaped him.

 

“Father?” Nemamiah's tone was immediately concerned and her hands felt cool on his arms. The white hot flash only dulled to a roaring fire, feeling as though it engulfed his brain like a wildfire eating away at a forest. Castiel tried to grit his teeth and bear it. Severance itself was a tearing pain, but even that had dulled after a few seconds. This pain was debilitating and eventually gritting his teeth didn't chase away the burning. Castiel tried to hold it together, because Nemamiah was right there, watching her father in pain but Castiel couldn't even speak to advise her. He thought the answer for her would be obvious, for her to heal him; but she didn't and he didn't know why.

 

The pain made Castiel cry out and he pressed his face into the mattress, his hands gripping his hair. He felt a brief moment of Nemamiah's hand on his head but anything else was drowned out by the heat of pain. It was an elongated suffering. It was like being in Hell; literally. Castiel may have not been on the receiving end of tortures in Hell, but he saw the mangled remains of a body charred by fire, bit by bit, eating away at the flesh. The only thing that was missing was the smell of roasting flesh...

 

The only thing that interrupted the burning cycle was the sudden blast of ice on his hands and head. The headache sizzled some what then. It didn't disappear, but it was enough that Castiel was brought back to reality. He knew then that he was curled into a tight ball on the bed and Nemamiah was tugging his arm, vying for his attention several times.

 

“Father? Father?” She sounded panicked and that was enough for Castiel to force himself up. He found the chill was a plastic bag of ice from the ice machine down the hall. The ice pail was lying on the floor with scattered bits of ice where she'd poured it into the bag and she took his hand as she reached out to sooth her.

 

“I'm awake. I'm here,” Castiel assured her roughly. He wasn't well, but he felt more conscious as held the bag to his head; even as it started to drip because of imperfections in the plastic. The throbbing heat was still alive in his skull. “You didn't heal me.”

 

“I don't know how.” She squeezed his hand, tears running down her face from fear. “You didn't teach me. I didn't know what to do...”

 

Castiel's breath caught in his throat. She hadn't gained the knowledge he'd sent. “I didn't...” He couldn't transfer knowledge to her? He couldn't teach her? Was the pain a backlash of his inability?

 

“What happened?” Nemamiah asked, starting to catcher her breath since Castiel was speaking to her.

 

“I... I don't know,” Castiel whispered. He moved the ice to an aching spot on the other side of his head, “I need... I need the pills from my bag.” Nemamiah was off without needing to be prompted twice. She looked for merely a couple moments inside it before she brought the clothes bag to him. Castiel dug knowingly into it and brought out the bottle Dean had given him for the pain of his recovering body. He popped off the bottle and took one, hoping it took effect soon. 

 

“Are you going to be okay?” She asked, fidgeting next to the bed. Castiel pursed his lips and waved for her to join him. She hopped up onto the bed and he curled an arm around her in a hug as she sat in his lap. He decided not to answer her. He wasn't going to be okay. He couldn't teach his own daughter to defend herself and now he couldn't teach her the simplistic power to heal others. He pressed his lips to her hair, taking comfort in her presence, the hum of grace still radiating from her being. “Should I call Dad?”

 

“No, he's busy,” Castiel said automatically. “There's nothing he can do to help. It would only put stress on his mind.” Even though he wanted nothing more than for Dean to kiss away some pain, Castiel didn't want Dean to think he was unable to watch his own daughter for a few hours without calling him. “The medication will kick in in a few minutes. It should help.” He gave her a gentle squeeze. “The ice helps. Thank you.”

 

“You were burning up,” she said and hugged his arm. “You're still warm.”

 

Castiel nodded, because he did feel he was burning. The ice only numbed him, and he knew if he removed the ice, it would come back with vengeance. But what made it worse was that, through the pain, nothing had come of it. Nemamiah had not learned how to heal anyone. 

 

He hugged Nemamiah again slowly grasping the horror of being unable to teach her an angel's power. “I just need a few minutes of rest,” he said, feeling dazed from it the more it swirled in his mind.

 

“Okay,” she agreed and still sat by while Castiel laid on the bed. “Tell me if you need any thing.”

 

“Of course,” Castiel agreed, closing his eyes. He felt Nemamiah curl up to him not a minute later as he fell into an uneasy nap. One where weak demons preyed on a young nephilim and tore her to pieces; over, and over, and over again.


	45. Road Blocks

Dean chalked up Bobby kicking him and Sam off his property to a bad afternoon. Karen was Bobby's wife, so Dean shouldn't have blamed him for defending her; dead or not. He still thought Bobby was being ridiculously stubborn and stupid for it though. They couldn't even stay long as Dean parked in front of their motel room; Zombies were starting to go bad and they needed the extra supplies. Dean parked the Impala and when he saw Castiel sitting outside the door with his hands gripping his head, he decided that it was just a down right shitty day.

“Hey.” Dean grew anxious as he walked over to him; over-protective Castiel wasn't hovering over Nemamiah. Castiel's fingers lifted a little to make brief eye contact with Dean, so at least he was alert. “Where's Miah?”

“Inside,” Castiel said, voice groggy as he finally sat up, hands sliding from his face. “I just needed some air.” Dean glanced at Sam and nodded to the motel door. Sam took the silent request with a nod of understanding and went inside to check on Nemamiah. When Dean heard her upbeat greeting, he felt assured that she was okay. He leaned over Castiel, who was sitting on one of the chairs from the room.

“What's going on?” Dean asked once the door had closed. “You look like you've been steam rolled.” Castiel's face had an ashen quality to it, making him look worse than he had right after the split. Castiel look a large breath and looked guiltily up at Dean.

“Since I had better mental clarity after the last job, I thought I was up to transferring more knowledge to Nemamiah about her angelic powers.” Castiel sounded labored, focusing on his breathing. Dean gently squeezed his shoulder, feeling how tight Castiel was. He also felt heat radiating from under the t-shirt.

“Headache come back to bite you?” Dean asked.

“Yes.” Castiel nodded as he folded his arms. “But it's worse than that.” Dean frowned.

“Worse how?” Dean asked and Castiel pursed his lips, giving him a mournful gaze.

“She didn't learn what I offered her,” Castiel murmured, shame etched into his features. For a moment he looked disturbingly like his future self. Dean grimaced and he kneaded his shoulder gently.

“Maybe you're having an off day?” Dean offered. “I know I am. Maybe you need more time to rest up before you do it.” 

Castiel shook his head, eyes downcast. “No. I fear that...” He went quiet, as if to steady himself from the truth. “Without my grace, I can not teach her about her angelic heritage. She will be unable to use the grace that I gave to her to its fullest.” Dean felt Castiel tremble under his hand and his face was tight, thoroughly panicked about that prospect. “I've failed to pass on vital survival skills that she may need one day.”

“Hey, easy,” Dean said, stooping in front of Castiel to hold his shoulders. “You know, she's not all angel.” 

Castiel sat up straighter, gazing up with, eyes wet. “You refuse to teach her how to defend herself as a human,” he said sharply, showing his bitterness. “But I failed to teach her valuable skills as an angel. I have nothing to give her.” Castiel hid his face in a hand. “I'm a failure as a father.”

“Cas, you're not a failure,” Dean said firmly and pulled Castiel's hand from his face. He still had that wet, wounded look. “Stop it, you're not.” He cupped Castiel's cheek in his hand, making them have eye contact. “Just because you can't teach her angel stuff doesn't mean you're a bad dad. It just means we have to work around it.” He wiped his thumb under the almost tears Castiel wouldn't let fall. “It's going to be okay.”

“I don't see how,” Castiel muttered, his soulful blue eyes staring at him.

“You're just going to have to trust me on it; otherwise we're pretty much fucked,” Dean half joked, because he didn't know either. He just hoped for a time where the world wasn't ending. Castiel apparently didn't find his joke very funny because he didn't laugh. He did, however, cup Dean's face with his hands.

“I do trust you, Dean,” Castiel said firmly. “I just need... I need to feel that she's safe at all times. Not just with us.” Dean grimaced, because Castiel made a good point. A damn good point.

“Okay...” Dean agreed with a sigh. “We can talk about teaching her later. After we take care of the walking dead.” A look of hope crossed Castiel's face and Dean squeezed his shoulders before standing up. Castiel stood as well and his arms snaked around Dean's waist, hugging him tight. Dean leaned Castiel into him. As gray as Castiel looked, his skin was still warm. Too warm, actually. Dean kissed Castiel's forehead, finding his skin was fever hot. “And after you're feeling better. You feel hot.”

“It's just the headache,” Castiel said, pressing his face into Dean's collar. 

“Take anything for it?” Dean asked, his hand gliding up and down Castiel's back.

“Several of the pills you gave me.” Castiel's tense body slowly eased against his.

Dean frowned a moment. The vicodin he'd pilfered was pretty strong. “How many?”

“Four,” he admitted and Dean sighed.

“Easy on the meds there, I don't need you to become an addict too quickly on me.” Dean needed a high Castiel like a nail in his skull. Pain killers seemed to be the stepping stone to amphetamines. 

“I think you underestimate the level of pain attempting to transfer knowledge gives me.” Castiel muttered, “The bottle says do not exceed 8 pills in 24 hours.” 

“Yeah well, I still don't want to think about you needing your stomach pumped because of a headache.”

“I will only take them as needed,” Castiel assured him and after a long exhale into Dean's jacket, Castiel eased his full weight against Dean. “I'm glad you're here.” Dean gave him a tight squeeze. It was odd for Castiel seeking contact so strongly. He was normally independent; saying he was a strong soldier.

“You should have called me. I would have been here sooner,” Dean told him.

“You were busy,” Castiel murmured in his defense. “There's nothing you could have done about it.”

“Don't care,” Dean said. “You're important to me, Cas.” Castiel squeezed him tighter. Dean pulled back to give Castiel a firm kiss and Castiel relaxed in his arms again. “Call me next time. Capisce?”

“Capisce,” Castiel agreed softly and Dean squeezed Castiel's side affectionately as he drew back from the hug.

“Unfortunately me and Sam came back to get extra ammo before we go out again. One of the zombies turned bad a couple hours ago,” Dean said.

Castiel stood more alert at the news. “Who?”

“Mrs. Jones. Bobby kicked us off his lot when we told him.” Dean squeezed Castiel's arm. “You don't look up for zombie slaying though.” Castile fidgeted a little before he answered.

“I would not feel comfortable leaving Nemamiah here alone,” Castiel stated. Dean grimaced, but agreed.

“Sam's gonna handle the town; he's working out how to tell the sheriff that Mrs. Jones ate her husband without getting arrested. I'm gonna go back to make sure Bobby doesn't get eaten.” Dean gave him a meaningful look. “You sure you're gonna be okay here?”

Castiel took a deep breath but nodded. “I'm well enough to fend off the undead if a few come by.”

“If you're sure.” Dean wasn't exactly sure what he would do if Castiel wasn't up for watching Nemamiah. He couldn't take them to Bobby's. Sam couldn't take them to town.

“I am.” Castiel squeezed Dean's hand. “Be careful.”

“I got it.” Dean agreed and snagged a quick kiss; Castiel even let him. Dean opened the motel door, finding both Sam and Nemamiah inside at the far window. Dean rolled his eyes because they were nosing in on the mushy scene. “Ready to go, Sam?”

“Ready.” Sam held up the box of the extra ammo.

“Where are you going?” Nemamiah asked suspiciously. Dean looked to Nemamiah, then to Sam. “Didn't tell her?”

“Nope,” Sam said and Dean knelt down to her level.

“Okay, Miah, me and Sam are going patrolling, just to make sure no one's hurt or anything.” Dean bent the truth, just because she was so uncomfortable with zombie shooting. Nemamiah quirked her head.

“You're not going to shoot anyone, are you?” She asked and Dean rolled his shoulders in a half shrug.

“Not unless I have to,” Dean promised, but with zombies, he was probably going to have to. Nemamiah gave a satisfied nod after a moment of thought.

“Okay,” she agreed. Dean gave her a quick hug and a kiss on the head before he and Sam packed back into the Impala to drop him back off in town. Castiel and Nemamiah watched from the door as they drove off. Dean sighed before he looked at Sam as he drove towards town.

“Well this should be easy,” Dean said sardonically. 

“Yeah, really easy,” Sam muttered and Dean gunned the engine, really hoping the zombie hunt turned out well.


	46. Disobedience Streak

Nemamiah flipped through the pages of Sherlock Holmes, nose deep in the middle of the book. She had lots of time to get through the adventures because they had been in that motel room for several days. The room had a TV, but she had not felt the urge to turn it on, even for background noises. In fact, the quieter, the better. The scenes played themselves out in her head in the most exciting of ways. Holmes and Watson were good entertainment; better than watching Cheetahs running down antelope.

Castiel had his own book open as they both shared the bed for reading space. Nemamiah was glad Castiel was no longer curled up on the bed, groaning in pain. It had been a scary few minutes to see her father immobilized and she wished she had learned to heal, because she would have done anything to help him if she could. Castiel looked better now, after Dean and Sam had come by. The medication had helped hours before then, but only when Dean talked to Castiel did he really seem to be more at ease. Castiel did occasionally glance out the window at the darkening street, but in between that time he was reading an old tomb. Castiel's book was not as interesting looking as Sherlock Holmes, Nemamiah determined. First of all, it was in Latin. Second, it was about the undead; Nemamiah had a sinking feeling it had to do with all the people in town.

“Are Uncle Sam and dad going to bring back dinner?” Nemamiah asked curiously.

“There's a good chance they will. If not, we may go out to eat,” Castiel said as he glanced over at her. “Are you enjoying the book Sam gave you?”

Nemamiah nodded, “Yes. It's about a detective that solves crimes with pure logical reasoning.” She smiled brightly. “He dresses up in clever disguises and can find out just about anything by just meeting someone.” Castiel smiled, closing his own book, much to Nemamiah's relief.

“That does sound interesting,” Castiel agreed.

“He has the most amazing adventures.” Nemamiah glanced at her book, then back to her father. “Uncle Sam said these stories are fictional. But they feel real. Are there real people like Sherlock Holmes?” 

“Perhaps.” Castiel folded his hands in his lap. “Fictional tales may be based off of real people. But most human detectives are retired law enforcement.” Nemamiah thought about this and smiled.

“Wow,” she said, her mind turning over the adventures of a detective's life.

Castiel's phone began to buzz on the table, ringing in it's high pitched alarm. Castiel stood to answer it and Nemamiah listened, wondering if it was her father checking in.

“Hello, Sam,” Castiel greeted and paused as he listened to Sam on the other line. Nemamiah blinked and listened, the air turning tense as Castiel frowned. “I see. Yes, thank you for the warning.” He hung up a few moments later and he lifted the gun that he'd loaded earlier from the table. 

“What's going on?” Nemamiah asked, sensing that was a bad sign.

“Sam was informed about a few zombies from the sheriff in our area,” Castiel told her and went to the window to check outside. Nemamiah slowly marked her place and closed her book.

“Why would he say that?” she asked. The zombies hadn't hurt anyone and Dean told her they wouldn't shoot anyone unless they had to.

Castiel let out a heavy breath. “Something has triggered the undead to feed and it's happening more quickly than they anticipated. But they all seem to be leaving town instead of converging on it. We're going to stay here and stay quiet.” Nemamiah's lips pursed in a frown.

"What about Aunt Karen?" She murmured.

"She probably has fallen to the hunger as well." Castiel looked out the window at the empty parking lot, "Dean has gone to make sure Bobby is safe." Nemamiah sat up.

"Dad can't hurt Aunt Karen," she protested.

"He will if she tries to harm Bobby," Castiel said, not unkindly, but not sympathetically either. Nemamiah stood, her wings unfurling and lifted to gather air. "Nemamiah." Castiel frowned, looking at her. "You put those wings away right now." Nemamiah lifted her head and with a flap and a flutter of feathers, she flew from the room, determined to make sure Dean didn't shoot Karen. 

In the room, Castiel's heart sank into his belly. "Damn it!" Castiel nearly threw his gun. He jumped for his cell phone and then for the door. He tried Dean's number, but it went to voice mail as he headed to Sam's location at the police station.


	47. The Meaning of Death

The spare room cot creaked when Nemamiah landed on her butt in the spare bedroom and looked around, making sure she was actually at Bobby's. She didn't have too much practice with flying and had learned to look for a soft landing. She had missed Bobby's bed, but it was far softer than the first time she'd landed. Tiring, but better. Even the 5 miles distance left her a bit winded. She took a few quick breaths and stood up. She slipped down the stairs after not finding Karen in her and Bobby's room and there was an eerie difference in the air. The energy was all wrong from what she'd felt before. It was quiet and thick.

"Uncle Bobby?" She tried as she reached the bottom of the stairs, wings quivering instinctively behind her. Her feathers fluffed as she got goosebumps down her neck and arms. "Aunt Karen?" She move into the library and stopped. Karen was lying on the couch, her dress full of flesh and blood. Nemamiah's breath caught in her throat as her feet were rooted to the ground; her mind was thoughtless as she watched blood dribble slowly to the floor. The only thing that jarred her from her spot was a sharp gunshot outside and tears were sparked in her eyes. "Aunt Karen?" There was no more life in the body, Nemamiah could sense that. Karen's body had as much spark to her as a rock but Nemamiah still took a step towards the body. "Aunt Karen?" She bit her bottom lip and touched the bare arm that rested over her chest, finally seeing the dark hole in the side of her head. She was cold; the kind of cold that couldn't be warmed by a hug. More tears welled up in Nemamiah's eyes and a sob rocked her, especially when more shots rang out, getting closer to her location.

The front door burst open where Dean and Bobby could be heard. Nemamiah sobbed loudly and snuffed her nose with her hand; one hand was still on the icy flesh. Dean barged in at the sound, finding the quivering feathers and shaking girl next to Karen's body.

"Miah!" Dean shouted and Nemamiah's head jerked up when she heard her dad. "What the hell are you doing here?!"

"A-aunt Karen," Nemamiah managed through a fit of sobs and she jumped as she heard glass breaking. Zombies had started so smash in through the windows. Her wings flared up in fear.

Dean shoved the butt of his sawed off shot gun to his shoulder and shouted, "Miah, get over here!" She didn't move. Even as the zombies started clawing their way in, Nemamiah's wings were a better target at that point than the undead. Miah was frozen and all she could do was try the I'm-bigger-than-you approach, but that just didn't cut it with zombies. "Miah!" He blasted the wall above the window; doing about as much damage as throwing wall bits at the enemy. Nemamiah at least moved then. Her wings curled over her to deflect the plaster and splinters. Dean shot a zombie satisfyingly in the face before he rushed forward to scoop Nemamiah up under her butt. He tucked her against him and backed away from the window. She curled against him and for several seconds he was only able to see a big wall of quivering feathers. "Damn it, put them away Miah! Tuck 'em. Tuck them!" The black wings hesitated, but they faded and Dean was nearly choked with the strength of her frantic hug around his neck. 

Luckily Bobby rolled in as back up and was firing accurately as Dean fought with getting the next round of bullets into his gun. He only had a couple rounds left at best and the shot he'd used to get Nemamiah's attention was a big loss when they were so low on ammo. Nemamiah pressed as flat to him as possible, wetting his shoulder with her scared tears.

"I'm down to my last round." Bobby shoved the last two bullets into his gun and hit another zombie in the chest. Bobby was cursing up a storm; tyke in the room or not.

"Yeah, I KNOW." Dean was out and the zombies, at least 7 of them were closing in from the doorway and the windows. Dean hung his gun on Bobby's wheelchair handles and Miah's grip on him was enough that Dean could pull Bobby backwards into the nearest closet. There was a bunch of clawing and banging on the door after them. Dean grumbled and tucked Nemamiah closer, starting to hear the gross sobbing into his shoulder; the kind that left snot and everything. He decided to yell at her later, if they survived the Sioux Falls Zombie Apocalypse.

"We're damn lucky they're too dumb to pick a lock," Dean muttered, trying to lighten the dyer mood. The banging stopped and the door handle started making a familiar jiggling.

Bobby glared at Dean. "Don't you ever get tired of being wrong?"

The door started to open but there was shooting from outside and Dean hugged Nemamiah tight as she screamed into his arm. She squeezed hard enough to leave bruises.

Finally the silence fell and there was movement of bodies being moved before the door was pulled open. Sam was there and behind him was Castiel and Sheriff Jody Mills; they all had guns. Sam looked relieved. Jody Mills looked a healthy mix of relieved and freaked out. Castiel was livid. Dean suddenly didn't feel like yelling at Nemamiah anymore. Bobby rolled out of the closet and when Dean followed, Castiel stepped forward securing his gun in his overcoat pocket. Nemamiah had quieted and was curled up against Dean more now than clinging for her life.

"She's okay," Dean assured Castiel.

"Not when I'm though with her," Castiel said dangerously.

"Whoa, whoa, easy." Dean squeezed her and Nemamiah let out a muffled sob.

"She flew off when I ordered her to stay put," Castiel snapped.

"Yeah, I see that." Dean raised his voice just as loud as Castiel's.

"Aunt Karen..." Nemamiah hiccuped and Castiel's anger simmered, but did not fully disappear. Castiel held out his arms for his daughter and Dean hesitated. Castiel took a deep breath, giving Dean a strained look as he gestured again. This time he looked less savage. Dean loosened his grip and Nemamiah was nearly limp as Castiel took her into his arms. Nemamiah curled into Castiel much like she had Dean, burying her face into his trench coat collar. Castiel pet her head and kissed her hair above her ear, shushing her as she started to whimper again.

"You're fortunate you didn't get hurt," Castiel chided, all the anger melted into relief.

"I'm s-sorry," Nemamiah said wetly.

"When I say stay put, you have to stay put." Castiel started rocking her slowly, as though she was a fragile infant. Dean touched Castiel's shoulder and when he caught Castiel's eyes, he nodded towards the door, silently suggesting they should go. Castiel nodded and they slowly filtered out the door. 

Nemamiah opened her bury vision as the moved, eyes catching on Karen, covered in house and flesh bits. A new wave of tears hit her. "Aunt Karen..."


	48. Wind down

Castiel held the Sherlock Holmes book as he stepped outside. Dean sat on the hood of the Impala, facing the motel room door. Castiel shut the door after him.

 

"I think she's a little torn up to read." Dean said.

 

"She will be looking for a distraction when she calms down." Castiel tucked the book under his arm and walked over to Dean, "I think this is punishment enough on top of her finding Karen dead."

 

"Yeah, Miah really liked her." Dean said and breathed into the night air. The only real light was the parking lot. "Bobby's going to burn her in the morning." Bobby had his own -wheelchair accessible- motel room for the night. There was no way he was sleeping in his house with all the zombie bodies.

 

"Nemamiah should be there." Castiel leaned against the car, next to Dean. "For closure."

 

"Yeah." Dean nodded. "I get it." Dean looked at Castiel, hands in his pockets. Castiel was looking up into the sky, where the stars were mixed with the foggy clouds. Castiel looked like he was finally allowing himself to relax from what happened that day. His shoulders were finally at ease and held the book more like a book instead of a weapon. "Cas, you were right." Castiel slid his gaze from the sky to Dean. "Miah needs to be trained. I just... After meeting my mom, she said she never wanted this life for me or Sam. She was a damn good hunter and she never wanted any part of it. I see Miah and I think about my mom...” Castiel kept a careful eye on him and gently touched Dean's arm. Dean took a deep breath. “But damn it, what if me and Bobby hadn't been there? And how good is being part angel if she freezes up?” Castiel nodded and wrapped his arms around Dean's, hugging him close. Their hips bumped warmly.

 

“I just want her safe, Dean,” Castiel assured him and Dean wrapped his arm around Castiel's waist and hugged Castiel against him. Dean pressed a kiss to Castiel's temple.

 

“Me too.” Dean breathed into Castiel's hair. "Maybe after tomorrow, I can take her shooting." Castiel nodded, half nuzzling against Dean's jaw.

 

"I think that would be best," Castiel said. They eased into a quiet warmth of understanding. It was good to feel the tension drain out of Castiel's body against him.

 

Sam was in the motel room with Nemamiah; he was either talking to her or on his laptop allowing her to mourn in peace. Sam was good like that, Dean knew. The town was finally calming down from the zombies and the motel was pretty packed because of all the dead bodies in everyone's house.

 

Castiel held up the paperback book eventually. "I'm debating burning this so she won't take it."

 

"Do you think she'd do that?" Dean raised his brows.

 

"She's got more of you in her than you'd think." Castiel raised his brows back. "She ran off to save someone close to her and she didn't care if it was going to kill her or not." Dean smiled a little and his hands squeezed Castiel's hip. He could mention that Castiel disobeyed orders from Heaven to help Dean, but that freshly fallen angel subject was touchy and Castiel was just warming back up to him again.

 

"Chip off the old block." Dean murmured, rubbing his hand up and down the dip in Castiel's side warmly. His mind replayed merely hours ago, Castiel barging in, gun cocked and taking down a horde of Zombies at the door. It really wasn't fair how Castiel could be naive in many things, but then could mow down werewolves and zombies with just a .45. "Y'know, Sam will get all weepy if you start burning his books."

 

Castiel's nimble fingers flipped through the well loved pages. "Mm, I need a box, then. I could carve some Enochian sigils that she can't get into and hide it-" Dean tipped Castiel's chin up with his hand and sealed their lips together with a warm kiss. Castiel sank into it, breathing out slowly, welcoming it. 

 

"Did you know, you're really sexy when you take charge." Dean told him with a slow smile and Castiel breathed slowly out his mouth, leaning heavily against the Impala hood.

 

"You get aroused when I discuss punishing our daughter?" Castiel raised the book curiously.

 

"What? No." Dean pulled Castiel flush against him. "I was kinda thinking of you with the gun in your hand. Shooting zombies and being all angry." Castiel gave a curious look with a slightly lifted brow. "Well, when you're not angry at me."

 

"I don't see why my temperament would be a point of arousal." Castiel, however, was not put off by Dean's advances. His arms slid around Dean's neck, his fingers curling into Dean's nape.

 

"How about we get a room for a while?" Dean's smile grew and Castiel looked back to the line of doors. 

 

"Do you think Sam will be alright watching her?" Castiel asked.

 

"Yeah, she's a bit preoccupied," Dean said, pulling out his wallet for the second room. "You know, this should be a thing. After cases."

 

"It should be more often in general," Castiel told him, leaning in against Dean, not allowing him to go pay for the room yet. One of Castiel's hands fished into Dean's pockets, a thrill rolling up Dean's spine before Castiel pulled out Dean's keys and cell phone. "I was thinking we could take the car." Dean caught Castiel's curious look, as though hinting an experimental idea.

 

"Oh? Oooh." Dean's hands passed over Castiel's round butt. There was a good chance Castiel still had some hidden sex guru hidden in him that Dean wouldn't mind exploiting. "I like that idea." Castiel smiled and pushed himself from Dean, still having his keys and cell phone. Dean took hold of the keys briefly, but Castiel slipped them from his fingers, walking backwards and maneuvering around the passenger side of the car. There was a challenging glint in Castiel's eyes and Dean grinned. "You're not driving." Dean liked that look; it bordered on playful, but Castiel was far too composed for it to look so care free.

 

"I've observed you drive for over two thousand miles." Castiel swung the keys around his index finger and Dean pressed Castiel into the car door with his entire body. Castiel didn't fight back, he seemed to be expecting it; wanting it. Castiel was getting much better with letting Dean know what he wanted. Dean slipped the keys from Castiel's fingers, leaning in kissing range but not connecting their lips.

 

"Get in the car." Dean ordered and pressed his body briefly into Castiel's before pulling back and walking over to the driver's door. Castiel let out a satisfying rush of air and was in the car before Dean. Castiel did manage to make a call to Sam that they were going for a long food run and Sam had an inkling in his voice that let them both know that he knew it was going to be more than a food run. 


	49. Ready or Not, Goodbye

The timber was gathered for the zombie bodies in the morning. Each and every one would be salted and burned by the evening. Sam and Dean set up the pyre for Karen in the morning at Bobby's house. They laid her upon it and left Bobby to salt and set her alight. It would give Bobby time while they got rid of the rest of the zombie bodies.

 

Castiel stroked Nemamiah's back several yards back as Bobby was looking at the sheet wrapped body, “Do you want to stay with Bobby for a while?” Castiel asked and Nemamiah nodded, barely having said a word all night. Dean patted her head after he finished with the pyre.

 

“We won't be far, just around the bend,” Dean told her. “One of us could stay if you want...” She shook her head firmly. He bent down on one knee and pulled her into a tight hug. She didn't respond for a moment, but then she wrapped her arms around her dad and hugged back tightly. “Stick with Bobby until we get back, got it?” She nodded and Dean stood. Castiel lingered the longest, at least until Dean rested a hand on Castiel's back and lead him back to the Impala. 

 

Nemamiah walked over to Bobby and looked at the corpse on the pyre. “What do we do?” She asked meekly. Bobby glanced at her, appearing far older than when she'd first met him.

 

“Well... Say a few nice things. Say good bye; again. And then let her go.” Nemamiah stared at the white sheet, remembering how Karen taught her to roll out pie crusts and how to stack lasagna. She remembered all the soft words and warm smiles. Nemamiah had not met many people in her short existence, but she knew Karen was good and kind, and there should have been more time to get to know her. 

 

“Karen made good food,” Nemamiah said suddenly, to Bobby, because really, telling the corpse would do nothing. It was empty, she could still feel that. The warmth of the soul was gone. “She was kind and patient and-” Bobby leaned his face into his hand and rubbed his eyes with his hand. 

 

“You don't have to say anything, tyke.” Bobby's voice was raspy and he nudged her to face the pyre, “You're tellin' her, not me.” Nemamaiah looked at the sheet and her eyes prickled.

 

“I wouldn't say that though.” She rung her fingers. “I'd tell her to come back, because it doesn't make sense. She was only here for a few days. She should have been here longer. She didn't deserve to go.” The wind picked up, blowing against the dusty ground. Bobby took a deep, heavy breath as Nemamiah stood very still. “It's stupid.”

 

A sad smile crossed Bobby's face and he whipped his eyes free of tears. “Got that right.” He sat up in his chair more. “Y'know, she wanted kids. I bet she would have loved to have one like you.” Nemamiah looked back at Bobby and wiped her nose with her hand.

 

“But neither of you are an angel,” she said and Bobby sighed.

 

“I'm not talkin' about biology. I'm talkin' about a sweet kid that likes to learn stuff. You... Well, she was happy while she was back.” Bobby rubbed the back of his neck and Nemamiah stared at the pyre for a few silent moments.

 

“I don't want to say goodbye,” Nemamiah said and Bobby sighed.

 

“Me either.” Bobby rolled forward and leaned over for the salt and gasoline that was left there for them. “But whether we're ready or not, we got to salt and burn her. Can't have her haunting anyone.” Nemamiah let out a slow breath and she started tossing salt with Bobby over the body and she did a lot of the splashing of the gasoline. Bobby took up a match and it all went ablaze. 

 

The fire was hot, and Nemamiah sat close to it, as though still waiting for a spark of life that wasn't going to appear in the body. She wasn't put at ease from the ritualistic departing of a funeral. She felt... unsettled and angry. It wasn't fair, she repeated in her mind. It wasn't fair. There had to be a way that Karen hadn't had to die. But if there was a way, she couldn't think of one. Castiel had not passed on that knowledge to her.

 

The fire seemed to burn for hours and in that time Castiel, Dean, and Sam returned to see how the progress was going. 

 

“Nemamiah,” Castiel said gently, kneeling next to her on the ground as she still watched the embers burn. The sun was high, signaling that it was past lunch, but Nemamiah didn't feel hungry. “It's time to go.”

 

“I don't want to,” Nemamiah muttered. “I'm not ready to say goodbye yet.” Castiel watched her curiously and pet her hair. Even Bobby had turned in when the group had come back for Nemamiah. Bobby had already done this once before; not that it made it easier on him. Sam waited at the Impala and Dean stood over Castiel and Nemamiah, grimacing at the ash and ember remains. 

 

Castiel was not accustomed to funerals. He was used to saying quiet goodbyes to his brothers that were burned into the earth and moving on. It was what he was taught in Heaven; not to dwell on the dead; especially a mortal's. Castiel looked up at Dean, silently asking for assistance. Dean crouched down next to his daughter.

 

“You don't have to say goodbye now, Miah,” Dean said. “You might not say it for days or years. But you can't just sit here. You're still alive, so you've got to live.” Nemamiah wrapped her arms around her knees and she frowned at the charred branches and dust. 

 

“It's not fair,” she muttered.

 

“Damn right it's not,” Dean agreed and he bent down, gripping her under the arms and lifting her, wrapping her up in a hug. “You got to focus on the family you still got though. You still got me, Cas, Bobby, and Sam. Even your useless Uncle Gabriel.” Nemamiah scrunched into the hug, wrapping her arms around Dean's neck, and Dean only grimaced a little because she'd left substantial bruising when she was panicked the day before. He still hugged her tight though. “Atta girl. How about we go grab something to eat, huh?” She nodded into his shoulder.

 

“Okay,” she said tiredly, sounding exhausted. She didn't even make the ride home before she was asleep on Castiel's lap in the back of Impala. None of them had the mind to wake her, but they did save her a plate of lunch for when she did wake.


	50. A Day at the Shooting Range

"I don't want to shoot a gun," Nemamiah murmured and Dean sighed as he set his gun bag on the wooden bench at the nearest shooting range. It was the day after the mass zombie burning and Dean couldn't wait forever for Nemamiah to be okay with Karen being dead. He also thought putting her spongy brain to work would get her mind off of the recent death.

 

"I did hear you the first hundred times, Miah." Dean unzipped the bag and a pouch of bullets. Nemamiah folded her arms and sulked, head bowed low. "Come on, Kiddo. Don't be like that."

 

"I don't want to hurt anyone." She looked at the long line of wooden table-benches stretched out, all facing the wall of dirt where targets, bottles, and clay pigeons were left for who ever decided to use them. Dean sighed and he sat on the seat. He slapped his knee and pulled Nemamiah into his lap after she ignored him.

 

"I'm not teaching you so you can hurt anyone." Dean tilted her head up with his hand and met her with equally green eyes. "I'm teaching you so you can protect yourself. And if you need to, protect others." Nemamiah blinked her watery eyes at him and he brushed his thumb against her dry cheek.

 

"I don't understand," she murmured.

 

"Well, your Uncle Sam and me hunt things that hurt people," Dean told her and Nemamiah nodded, having Castiel's knowledge of what Sam and Dean did. "Yeah, we usually have to shoot things, but our main goal is to help people who have no clue they're even being hunted." Nemamiah rubbed her nose with her arm.

 

"Aunt Karen," she whispered. "S'not fair."

 

"She was gonna hurt Bobby if he didn't put her down. And then she would have hurt you and me. Do you think that's fair?" Dean raised a brow.

 

"No." Nemamiah looked to her lap. "But Aunt Karen didn't want to hurt anyone." Dean gave her a tight hug and she leaned into him.

 

"And me and your father don't want to see you hurt. Got it?" Dean rubbed her shoulder. "Sammy didn't want to learn to shoot either, but damn it, he's alive for it. We all work with guns and you need to know about gun safety if nothing else. That means, when I say get down, you get the hell down. Got it?" She nodded solemnly and Dean dragged his bag closer to him, pulling out his handgun and popping out the magazine. Nemamiah eyed the gun warily. "Okay, see, it's unloaded. This is the magazine, it holds the bullets. This one is full, see?" She nodded in mental contemplation.

 

Dean showed her how the gun worked, like he had the parts of the Impala and she seemed to take it in better that way. She knew most of the gun parts from what Castiel had taught her earlier, but he made her squeeze off a few shots into the dirt mounts. She had unfairly good aim for a three week old. 

 

-

 

Castiel was opening and closing the simple shoe box that he'd gotten to encase Nemamiah's book as punishment for disobeying a direct order. Sam was at the motel room with Castiel since Dean had taken Nemamiah out to teach her how to shoot. The quiet fitting of cardboard repeated enough times to catch his attention from research.

 

“Cas, what are you doing?” Sam finally asked. Castiel glanced at Sam, and then once more, removed the top of the box, which held Sam's copy of Sherlock Holmes. The book was surrounded by cardboard walls and sharpie markings in Enochian. Even the lid inside held a seal that no angelic being could penetrate. Crude but effective; even though it was simple hardened wood pulp and ink.

 

“I'm just... thinking.” Castiel decided, eyes following a few of the lines. “About times when I dreaded these sigils.” Sam was quiet and Castiel gently replaced the lid of the box, resting his hand on the top of it. Castiel sat in front of the table, frowning at the box. Sam knew that look, a look of loss. But it wasn't loss of a person; more of an identity. Sam stood from his bed and retrieved a couple of warm beers. Sam sat across from Castiel at the table, placing it with a soft clunk beside the box.

 

“It'll get better,” Sam told him gently and Castiel gave a small withered and non-believing smile.

 

“You're very optimistic.” Castiel lifted the bottle by the neck and drained a good half of the bottle. “We are, however, in the middle of the apocalypse.”

 

“We'll stop it,” Sam promised, holding the bottle in one hand. “I'll stop it. I did start it. But I mean, being human isn't all that bad.” Castiel looked at the shoe box sadly.

 

“It's repetitive, there's a daily cycle that I can't get used to. I have to wash every day and Dean freely reminds me of everything I forget.” Sam shrugs slowly. Okay, those did seem like nice perks not to have to worry about washing and eating.

 

“I've never seen you two get so close until you fell,” Sam mentioned lightly. “I thought you and Dean were happy.” Castiel's lips puckered lightly in thought and he put the beer down on the table.

 

“I've never...” Castiel rethought his words. “Angels aren't meant to get attached.”

 

“I know.” Sam nodded. “But that doesn't mean you don't feel anything.” Angels had strange rules and a social structure Sam didn't even want to imagine, but he could see it worn on Castiel like his old trench coat. Or even more like the suits he'd seen every angel wear; besides Gabriel. Gabriel, the oddball archangel. Castiel twisted the bottle on the table slowly between his fingers.

 

“Dean is so determined. Passionate. Like a wild fire, and... I don't even think Heaven was expecting him to be so...” Castiel's mouth hung open, trying to find the remaining words.

 

“Stubborn?” Sam asked and Castiel shook his head.

 

“Loving... or maybe even compassionate.” Castiel looked up at Sam who had to think twice because those were not on his top list of Dean's traits; Sam would have said lazy, loud-mouthed, and hard-headed. “Dean only seemed receptive to me the night before he decided to find you again. He still hasn't told me why. I think Zachariah may have said something; or done something to him.” Sam sipped his beer thoughtfully.

 

“That dick has a lot of mind bending stuff to say,” Sam agreed, “But... I've never seen Dean happier. You know, when you two aren't fighting.”

 

Castiel's lips upturned in a more genuine smile, one from the heart. “I could say the same with you and Gabriel.” Sam's face flushed, just a bit as he looked down to his barely touched beer.

 

“Thanks for mentioning that we should get some couple time last week.” Sam was very appreciative for the break. It was oddly nostalgic to spend a night in Gabriel's dated apartment. 

 

“We all needed it,” Castiel said logically. “How is Gabriel fairing?”

 

“Luxuriously, as usual.” Sam gradually emptied his beer, but Castiel had not picked up his since first sip, “He's... on edge though. I can tell.” Castiel frowned.

 

“Is he considering helping?” Castiel asked.

 

“Not... No.” Sam sighed because that always seemed to be the second question; usually from Dean. Was Gabriel going to get off his ass and help? Was Gabriel going to help them look for the last two rings? Why was Gabriel being so shady and creepy? Sam had stopped asking Gabriel. He was just happy to bask in the archangel's glow for a bit. “He won't fight Michael or Lucifer.” Castiel looked annoyed. “Okay, look, just because I'm dating him doesn't mean I control his whole life. He's still trying to keep a low profile and hanging around us doesn't exactly count as staying on the down-low.”

 

“Those are excuses,” Castiel muttered. “He's being a coward.” Sam frowned and narrowed his eyes at Castiel. Castiel rubbed his temples. “I'm sorry. I'm... frustrated.”

 

“Yeah, I know,” Sam agreed slowly, his eyes drifting down to the ring on his finger. “You know... when we get those rings, we have to get Lucifer into the cage.” Castiel studied Sam's face and frowned.

 

“Yes, that is true,” Castiel agreed warily. “Have you thought of something?”

 

Sam hesitated but then chose his words carefully. “If I... can get control. If I let Lucifer in. I could put him into the cage.” Castiel stared at him unblinkingly. "Bobby did it. My dad did it with Yellow-eyes. It was for a moment, but that would be all I needed. You know, to lock myself into the cage."

 

Castiel sat up in his seat. “You do realize that you would be stuck in there with Lucifer...”

 

"I let him out." Sam pursed his lips for a moment. "I should be the one to put him back in." Castiel processed the logic of it, but he did not cease his disapproving stare. "It's an option for getting him in the cage. A last option, I swear. I mean, we have two rings to find still."

 

“Is that why you're not asking Gabriel to help?” Castiel thought aloud and when Sam didn't respond, Castiel sighed. “You don't want him to help.”

 

“I already lost him once.” Sam's throat swelled a bit and he rotated the ring on his finger. “I just want to be near him as long as possible. I can't ask him to fix this. This was all my fault.” Castiel inhaled slowly and then released it.

 

Castiel sighed. "I do not like it. Dean would not like it. And Gabriel..."

 

"I haven't told them yet," Sam admitted. "I know Dean will hate it. And I know Gabriel..." Gabriel had never wanted to see Sam again because of Sam possibly saying yes. And at the time, Sam didn't think he'd ever say yes, but, if it stopped the apocalypse then it was worth his life. The last thing Sam wanted to do was tell Gabriel his plan. He hoped there was another way. He hoped they found it before they acquired the last ring. Sam stared down at the dark crystal in the silver setting on his hand. He had to make everything right, “It's an idea, in case we can't find another way.”

 

"That is Famine's ring, isn't it?" Castiel had watched the new habit of Sam touching the ring over the past few weeks.

 

"Yeah." Sam forced himself to stop twisting it. "Gabriel cut it off famine and gave it to me. I... gave War's to him. He said it was a posy ring." Sam looked up, expecting something akin to Dean's annoyance, but he only found Castiel was smiling thoughtfully. Castiel must have had some idea of what that meant and Sam didn't have to explain it.

 

"You mean a lot to him," Castiel said knowingly. Sam's chest swelled and he smiled, blinking away water from his eyes.

 

"He means a lot to me too." Sam cleared his throat and wet it with a mouthful of beer. "So... you and Dean are good? You haven't been fighting recently." Castiel folded his hands in his lap.

 

"I'm extremely pleased that Dean realized Nemamiah needs skills to protect herself," Castiel said. "I had several hundred years to be trained, but we don't have the luxury for that now." Sam glanced up.

 

"She's so young," Sam said mournfully.

 

"She's started training late for an angel." Castiel stared at the ring in Sam's lap. "I started days after being split. After acquiring all of my knowledge of course." Castiel looked off distantly, closing his eyes a moment in concentration. Sam inclined his head curiously. Sam always guessed that angels were pretty brutal. But DAYS after being born? That was just... well, inhumane didn't quite cover it. It was traumatic. Sam understood a bit how that felt, he was a baby when his mom went up in flames...

 

"Do... you remember the angel that split you?" Sam asked tentatively, because perhaps the subject was sensitive. Castiel opened his eyes and shook his head.

 

"I think... I remembered him after I split. But since Raphael passed along his knowledge... It's only a blur." Castiel breathed deeply, shaking his head. "It's unimportant now, don't you think?" Sam thought briefly back to his conversation with Gabriel, about how there was one of his children that was still a full blown angel and Gabriel didn't even know if it was alive anymore. And then Sam thought to the mother he'd never known, only having met her because Castiel sent him back to the past with Dean.

 

"Gabriel is still pretty torn up about not knowing the angel he split." Sam mentioned, though afterwards he wondered if maybe he shouldn't have mentioned it. Castiel's lips pursed, a mix of confusion and disdain. "Maybe it's not important while stopping the apocalypse, but it is important in general..."

 

"It might be." Castiel sipped his beer. "But there is no way to find out. It is pointless to worry about." Sam nodded slowly and drank his beer. Castiel rolled his bottle between his hands. "I... proposed to Dean."

 

Sam started coughing on his beer and covered his mouth with his hands. That was a drastic change in subject that he did not need. "Y-You mean..." he coughed once more, "You mean uh... marriage?" Sam rubbed his nose, feeling the beer burn there and his throat.

 

"Yes." Castiel's face was flushed and he put his bottle down again. "I want to be his and him to be mine. But he said it was too fast and I don't really understand why it's fast." Sam drew his fingers through his hair. It baffled him that Castiel even knew what marriage WAS, but then again, it was in the bible and people had been doing it for centuries. But back then, people did it immediately, and sometimes people were betrothed. It seemed to be such an ancient concept.

 

"Well..." Sam wasn't sure if he should defend Dean or try to console Castiel. Dean obviously really liked... or even maybe loved Castiel. Sam was reminded of when soldiers ran out to get married before going off to war, and Castiel was always reminding them that he was a soldier. "We are in the middle of the apocalypse..." Sam didn't want to say they might not make it out alive, but that was always the tension in the air. 

 

"I think that would make the matter even more important." Castiel frowned. Sam internally sighed; yeah, war soldier mentality. Dean hadn't said a thing about this to Sam, so he really had no clue what Dean was thinking. Dean had always been the type of guy to play 20 dates and each of them would end up in bed with a different girl.

 

"I think." Sam took a moment to gather his thoughts as his eyes drifted back to the ring on his finger. "You should give him a ring." Castiel blinked.

 

"I wasn't sure if he'd accept it," Castiel said.

 

"Tell him it's a posy ring." Sam smiled a little. "A promise ring or something. Just don't say engagement ring, it'll freak him out if he already said it's too fast. Just something to remind him of you." It might freak Dean out a little, but maybe Dean needed a little bit of freaking out. He did make a nephilim with Castiel after all. Castiel looked up, pondering the idea.

 

"Perhaps I will." Castiel nodded and his head inclined when he heard the Impala in front of the motel room door. It was hard to mistake that growling purr for anything else.

 

"Food delivery." Dean announced as he walked in with a couple bags of Chinese food. Nemamiah squeezed past Dean and greeted Castiel with a hug. Castiel gave her a squeeze, pulling her into his lap.

 

"How was you first shooting practice?" Castiel asked. Nemamiah lifted her head primly.

 

"Dad says I'm a regular Anne Oakly," She said and Castiel paused, glancing at Dean curiously.

 

"She's a damn good shot," Dean said, plopping both bags on the rocky table and ruffled her hair. "Pegged all the plastic bottles in the lot." Castiel smiled proudly.

 

"Very good." He pet her cheek with a thumb. She smiled back but then here eyes drifted back to the shoe box. 

 

"What's that?" She asked, hand reaching towards it, but she did not touch it.

 

"That is where your book is for the time being," Castiel informed her. She stared at it, as though processing the box's existence itself for a moment. 

 

"I don't like it," she announced and looked up at Castiel. "I won't take it, really."

 

"I'm sure you won't." Castiel patted her back, that sort of way that meant he really didn't believe her. And maybe he had reason to because she eyed the box with contempt and she had been deep in the book's adventures. Sam was not about to cross Castiel and tell Nemamiah she could read Sherlock Homles online. 

 

Dean only looked amused and passed out food, bringing up their new case to Sam as they ate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I think Sam is the reason Dean and Cas don't drink themselves into a self loathing set of comas)


	51. What's Heaven?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merriam-Webster, Inc, .com:
> 
> Heaven: 1 The expanse of space that seems to be over the earth like a dome : Firmament – usually used in plural 2 a often capitalized : the dwelling place of the Diety and the blessed dead b : a spiritual state of ever lasting communion with God 3 Capitalized : God 1 4 : a place or condition of utmost happiness 5 Christian Science : a state of thought in which sin is absent and the harmony of divine Mind is manifested.
> 
> Heaven by Warrant – this is too perfect for Dean's POV right now. 
> 
> (After 5.16, Dark Side of the Moon)

Sam decided to really lay into both Castiel and Dean when they got back from another long “food run”; which was nothing but an excuse to have sex. Because they just LEFT him there with Nemamiah, expecting him to automatically babysit. Not that he didn't like Nemamiah, but he had a goddamn lover too, and maybe SAM wanted to have “I'm alive and not dead” sex too. Because Sam did not appreciate visiting Heaven after two hunters broke in and shot him and Dean. But no, he didn't get a choice in baby sitting, not after hunts or being brought back to life, apparently.

 

“Uncle Sam,” Nemamiah asked meekly and he looked away from his computer screen where he'd been keeping track of all the odd things happening during the apocalypse. For anything that looked disease or death related; but that was pretty much everything. Nemamiah stood there by the table next to him.

 

“Yeah, Miah?” Sam said with a long exhale. It wasn't that Nemamiah was an annoyance or anything. She was really sweet and usually well behaved. She hadn't flown out on him like she had on Castiel in any case.

 

“Why are you angry?” She asked and Sam rubbed his temples, he hadn't meant to let his annoyance show. Not until Dean got back anyway.

 

“I'm not angry,” he said, taking a deep breath to calm himself.

 

“But you're making your wrinkly face.” Nemamiah exaggerated her brow and a pouty frown. Sam smiled, because on Nemamiah it looked cute.

 

“Your dads just left here pretty quick.” Sam rubbed his hand down his face. “And they do that a lot after a job or something like today happened.” Luckily Nemamiah and Castiel hadn't been caught in the crossfire; they'd gone out to get breakfast and some father and daughter time. Sam didn't even want to imagine how Nemamiah had been when they found them. She already lost an 'aunt' a few weeks ago. She had been rather nervous all day. She was currently standing there, ringing her fingers with one hand, looking worried.

 

“Father said you were in Heaven,” she said quietly, wings folded neatly behind her. Those tank tops they bought her were really handy for letting her wings free in the motel rooms. “Did you see Aunt Karen there?” Sam grimaced, because Bobby's wife hadn't exactly been on their list of people to visit while they were up there.

 

“No, it really doesn't work like that. It turns out Heaven is where you relive your happiest memories.” Sam thought back, remembering Dean had popped in on him at an awkward time. Sam had been reliving a good memory of his and Gabriel's time in Illinois, where they were just laying together, completely content. Sam hadn't been dwelling over killing Lilith; a time before he'd tasted demon blood. At least Dean hadn't walked in on one of his memories of having sex with Gabriel, so maybe that was a relief. But it made him want to visit Gabriel even more. Gabriel had been despairingly absent the last few weeks. he kept saying he had to keep a lower profile but it left Sam desolate. He wondered if Gabriel was slowly backing out of their relationship. Sam looked at the ring on his finger often and reminded himself of Gabriel's commitment. He just hoped Gabriel was safe.

 

“You were dead.” Nemamiah looked at Sam sadly. “Both you and dad were dead.”

 

“Yeah, I know.” Sam sighed. “It doesn't get any easier each time it happens.” Because the next time might be the last time. “It's the... unfortunate benefit of being an archangel's vessel and not saying yes to the archangel.” Nemamiah eyed him, calculating it in her little head. She then closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around his waist, giving him a tight hug.

 

“I'm glad you came back,” she said and Sam smiled a bit, patting her short dark hair.

 

“Thanks.” Sam thought back to Dean, Castiel, and -most of all- Gabriel. “Me too.” Sam glanced back to his computer, silence filling the motel room. Nemamiah took the other chair at the table and sat in it. Well, more like she perched on it. She crouched on the seat and wrapped her arms around her knees. She was just looking at him, as if he was supposed to say something else. Sam scratched his jaw awkwardly. Kids weren't really his forte. It was Dean's.

 

“What's it like?” she asked then.

 

“What's... what like?” Sam didn't exactly feel comfortable talking to his niece about what being dead was like.

 

“Heaven,” She said simply and Sam mentally sighed in relief. “Father was an angel. He said he used to live there.”

 

“Well...” Sam wet his lips, trying to piece together what he remembered, but he didn't exactly want to go through everything that happened. An idea then clicked. “You know what?” He closed out the window on his laptop about the apocalypse and brought up his favorite search engine. “Let's look it up.” Nemamiah blinked.

 

“But you were there,” She said.

 

“Yeah, but I can't be your only source for what Heaven is like. I mean, there's not just Heaven-Heaven, there's other... after-lives.” Sam typed in Heaven, which brought up a few religious sites, some music. and a few definitions. “You know, most people won't understand that there's actually a Heaven. It's not normal for people to be brought back to life. So, with the internet, you can see what other people know or have found out.” Nemamiah stood up on her chair and leaned over to look at the screen, head quirked to the side and wings up high. He smiled because she looked like a little curious bird. “But remember, you can't believe everything you find on the internet, okay?”

 

“Why not?” She asked, a hand supporting her up by leaning on Sam's shoulder.

 

“Well, some of it is made up, or misinformed. And lots of it is just pop culture and other things. Just... if you find something that doesn't feel right, learn about it and see what you can conclude for yourself.” Sam nodded to himself. Researching was what Sam was good at. He could teach Nemamiah to be fundamentally educated if nothing else.

 

Nemamiah's eyes lit up. “Like a detective? Like Sherlock Holmes?” Sam smiled.

 

“Sure, just like Sherlock Holmes.” Sam agreed. He clicked on one of the links. “Okay, see here, Heaven can be the sky over the earth. Or the dwelling place of the blessed dead.”

 

“Like you?” She leaned closer to the monitor.

 

“I guess so.” Sam really didn't know how many time he'd been there, dead, but it was enough to throw Ash for a loop. Sam looked back to the page. “Heaven can also be a state of mind apparently.”

 

“Huh...” She blinked as Sam clicked the backspace key. “What's that?” She poked the screen and Sam felt a lot like a jungle gym rather than a person as she was only on the other chair now by her tip toes.

 

“That's a video. A music video.” Sam pulled Nemamiah's chair closer and turned the screen more towards her. “Here.” He clicked the video and she listened intently to the sound of Warrant's 'Heaven'. It was some fluffy mullet rock and Sam smiled because no doubt Dean would like this sort of music. Nemamiah's head lifted, listening to the whole song before she looked to Sam again.

 

“I like it.” Nemamiah smiled at Sam. “It reminds me of Dad and Father.” 

 

Sam chuckled. “Well, Dean likes this music, I guess you're genetically inclined to as well.” He patted her back. “Do you want to look up some stuff?” She nodded. Sam set the adult web site filter to on. He wasn't sure if it would last, but he couldn't say he didn't try. He turned it back to Nemamiah and he was relieved of being her leaning post. Sam looked at his phone as Nemamiah explored the keyboard and the touch pad mouse. Still no reply text from Gabriel. Sam sighed and hoped he was okay.

 

And well... it didn't take Nemamiah long to figure out she could type 'Sherlock Holmes' and Sam couldn't quite remember if Castiel had returned the book to her or not. But he saw that he was going to have a hard time keeping Nemamiah from finishing her book now.


	52. Servant of Heaven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (After 5.17, 99 Problems)

After visiting Heaven and killing a whore, Dean told himself after the apocalypse, if he survived it, he'd go on vacation. He'd drag Sam, Castiel, and Nemamiah to Vagas. Sam could babysit and Dean would show Castiel how to gamble and when Sam wanted to go out, he'd take Nemamiah to a show. She'd like the tigers and stuff. 

 

But at the moment, Dean was tired of burying bodies in a town that had been duped by a demon whore who had taken the form of a Preacher's daughter; it was grade A sitcom material right there. Sam drove them back to their motel room, which was no longer in that tiny town but in the nearest town over. Not one of them felt comfortable staying another night where people had killed their neighbors under the assumption that God was going to bring them paradise for killing sinners.

 

“Motel, sweet Motel,” Dean muttered as he climbed out of the passenger seat.

 

“Hey, Dean.” Sam followed suit, shutting the Impala door after himself. “Don't you think it was weird that you were able to kill that whore?”

 

“I had the branch, I took the shot. What do you want from me?” Dean grumbled. “The whore is dead and we saved a bunch of people. Day well done.” Sam gave him a suspicious look and Dean looked back at him, stopping at the hood of the car where the engine clinked as it cooled. “What?”

 

“Cas said it took a true servant of Heaven to kill the whore of Babylon,” Sam reminded him.

 

“God fearing man, that's me,” Dean said airily, which only served in earning one of Sam's deadpan glares, “So you going to stick around or you going to run off and see your boyfriend?” Sam sighed, pulling out his phone and then as an afterthought, he put it back in his pocket, a look of frustration coming over his face.

 

“Lover, Dean. He's my lover. You make it sound like we're in high school.” Sam pulled out the motel key and went to their door. Dean rolled his eyes. It helped him think 'boyfriend' when Sam as acting like a hormonal schoolgirl. “I'm staying in.”

 

“Well don't think I'm chaining you here or anything.” Dean followed adjusting his stiff shoulders. The argument probably would have escalated if not for the fact that Nemamiah nudged open the door for them and she was holding two paper plates with sandwiches on them.

 

“Dinner,” she announced proudly and they both blinked at her and she blinked back expectantly, patiently holding out the plates to each of them. Dean took his first and then nudged Sam, who took one as well.

 

“Thanks, Miah.” Dean looked between the white bread, finding lettuce, tomato, ham, and ketchup. “You make this?”

 

“Yes.” Nemamiah smiled. “Father and I decided to make something.”

 

“Oh really?” Dean gave her a smile and bent down to scoop her up in one arm and stood back up. “I bet it's awesome.” He walked in with her and Sam closed the door after them.

 

“It is, 'cause I made it.” She wrapped her arm around his neck, wings curled neatly behind her.

 

“Right.” Dean chuckled, because weren't all little kids proud of what they'd just made? Castiel was sitting on their bed, the TV was on and he was polishing off his own sandwich.

 

“I assume everything went well?” Castiel asked and Dean set Nemamiah down on the bed.

 

“As well as anything can with half the town turning on itself.” Dean ruffled Nemamiah's hair, which had grown in the last month or so so is got a poofy quality to it. Nemamiah smiled in return and scooted off the bed to go back to the table where sandwich fixings were laid out. Dean took a seat next to Castiel. “So, sandwiches.” They had been eating out a lot since they were full time on the road again. He took a bite and grimaced a bit with the sharp taste of too-much-ketchup.

 

“With very little cooking area, we were limited to preparing meager meals,” Castiel explained simply.

 

“Motels aren't made for any kind of real cooking.” Dean swallowed his bite, looking to where Nemamiah was drowning a piece of bread with a bottle of Heinz. “Easy on the condiments, squirt.”

 

“Okay, Dad.” Nemamiah continued to make her next masterpiece and Sam just looked amused, setting his half eaten sandwich on the table. 

 

“My compliments to the chef,” Sam told Nemamiah and she smiled back as Sam claimed the bathroom first for a shower. 

 

“Sam and his vegetable freak taste buds,” Dean muttered as Castiel leaned his shoulder against Dean's.

 

“It's not even a vegetable,” Sam cut in. “It's mostly sugar and vinegar with pureed tomatoes.”

 

“Still mostly tomatoes.” Dean wiped a good glob of red sauce on the side of his plate from one of the sides of bread. He then leaned back into Castiel as he took a bite of the sandwich again, actually being able to taste the ham with the second bite. “I bet you didn't get a mouthful of vegetable paste,” Dean said to Castiel.

 

“Of course not.” Castiel leaned over and kissed Dean's cheek. “I made my own.”

 

“Lucky,” Dean said and glared at Sam for making an amused face from watching his and Castiel's affections.

 

There was quiet as they ate and the thing that really irked Dean was that a procedural cop show was on. After he tried to change it, it changed right back to the cop show and Dean looked to Nemamiah, who had another sandwich in hand and a brow raised.

 

“I'm watching it.” Nemamiah joined them on the bed, sitting next to Dean.

 

“You like procedural cop shows?” Dean grimaced.

 

“They catch bad guys,” Nemamiah informed him.

 

“They are rather insightful to human culture.” Castiel shrugged.

 

“They're all the same,” Dean grumbled.

 

“Ssshh, I'm trying to listen.” Nemamiah bit into her new sandwich and Dean looked to Castiel who looked right back at him.

 

“Yes, Dean?” Castiel asked curiously.

 

“You realize they're all the same, don't you?” Dean asked. Castial shrugged.

 

“The police system in itself is procedural, but the program is paced quick enough to keep one's attention.” Castiel nodded to the TV. “Nemamiah thinks it's one of the already introduced suspects and I think it is an episode where the killer is not revealed until the end.” Dean stared at Castiel some more and Castiel sighed. “Nemamiah enjoys the program as well as several others and who am I to deny her education to her own culture.” Castiel drank from a bottle of water that was at his side and Dean shook his head but smiled despite he was outnumbered at this point about what they were going to watch. He tossed his empty plate on top of Castiel's and wrapped each arm around Castiel and Nemamiah's backs. 

 

“Fine, but after this, how about something else. You guys have had the TV all day.”

 

“Okay,” Nemamiah said easily, mouth stuffed with food.

 

It was nice, Dean mused. It was nice arriving back after a bit of hunting to his little girl and Castiel. It was a bit cramped in the small motel room for 4 people, but Dean really couldn't remember a time where he felt more at home. Fighting things and helping people were his life, and he couldn't give that up. So finding for now, he had both, he felt it was worth it. Finding out that God just didn't give a damn any more a few weeks ago had left him a bit hollow, yeah. He'd felt a bit empty since being dragged back to earth from Hell. But finding Castiel was angel pregnant gave him some sort of point to focus. It reminded him a lot of why humans kept fighting off death and kept moving forward. 

 

Nemamiah was a great reason to hold on and not give into Michael's deal. Because if he did, there was a good chance she wouldn't be there when Michael let him go. If Michael let him go. Michael had promised to, but Dean didn't trust a slimy word of that pompous asshole. Not after knowing an angel was supposed to kill a nephilim on sight. It wasn't an option, he told himself.

 

Sometime during the “climax” of the cop show, Nemamiah had climbed into Dean's lap, eyes fixated on the small TV. Sam hogged the bathroom for a shower after he'd eaten, missing the quality ending. Castiel was leaning his head on Dean's shoulder and Dean's thumb stroked a small pattern against Castiel's side.

 

“Do you think you're a true servant of Heaven, Dean?” Castiel asked then, in the last 5 minutes of the show, where Nemamiah's full attention was on the program. Dean glanced at Castiel, who was giving him the same suspicious look that Sam had a few minutes ago. 

 

“I kill a whore and everyone thinks I'm some sort of saint,” Dean grumbled.

 

“I'm concerned about what you were thinking of,” Castiel told him, “Because the apocalypse is closing in, we've not found any more rings, and Michael's deal is still open.” Dean sighed and took Castiel's hand.

 

“What does that even mean?” Dean asked. “I mean, I'm the Righteous man and everything. That's got to count for something.”

 

“Unlikely,” Castiel said. “You've completely disregarded Heaven and their ways.” Castiel's eyes flickered to Nemamiah for a split moment, then looked back at Dean. “We both have.”

 

“It's cause the whole thing is bull.” Dean scoffed. “So are the angels being in charge. And God's walking around here somewhere, not giving a damn...” Nemamiah looked up at them both then, since the subject was getting heavy and it even caught her attention. Dean sighed, rubbing her shoulder. “I'm not taking Michael's deal, okay? The only thing I was thinking of was... well, getting back here.” Dying again was not on Dean's to do list and getting back to Nemamiah at the motel had been on his mind. Making sure Castiel was alright from being tossed around by the whore had been on his mind. So had been getting through the apocalypse and having a moment to breathe. And maybe he'd had a dream about a park barbecue which seemed a lot like Heaven to Dean. Dean thought if he could get there, to that spot in time, everything would be okay. Maybe then he could believe in something. Not Heaven or God, but his family and being happy with Castiel and Nemamiah. But saying it aloud wasn't something easy to put into words. He just knew he had to keep going and he wanted Nemamiah and Castiel there with him. Dean smiled, hugging them both. “You guys are the closest thing to Heaven I need, got it?”

 

“Okay.” Nemamiah nodded. Castiel looked less convinced.

 

“Heaven and Earth are two very different places, Dean,” Castiel told him.

 

“Yeah, I know.” Dean struggled to find the words, because even he didn't understand why he was apparently a True Servant of Heaven now. “Look, I don't know why it worked, it just did.”

 

“Maybe it wasn't talking about the place.” Nemamiah said logically. “Uncle Sam and I were talking about Heaven after you both came back from the dead. Again.” Nemamiah turned in Dean's lap, to see her parents better. “There are lots of Heavens. But all Heavens are the same because they are all full of happiness. So Dad is a Servant of Happiness and Harmony.” Dean wasn't sure how to react. He partly wanted to gag because that was an even worse title than Servant of Heaven; it was... fluffy and sounded like a line from a kid show. But she was a little girl and at the same time it was adorable.

 

“You're speaking of that state of Heaven in the mind,” Castiel reasoned thoughtfully, undeterred or maybe not knowing that the title was more fluffy and emasculate. Castiel seemed intrigued. “Which is that state of thought where sin is absent and the harmony of the divine mind is manifested.” Nemamiah nodded.

 

“Yes.” Nemamiah nodded. Castiel pondered that, rubbing his chin.

 

“Theologically, it could be possible.” Castiel thought it over and Dean couldn't be helped but annoyed.

 

“Look, can't we just be happy that there's one less demon and there was another day for sandwiches for all?” Dean asked. “You two theologists can pick it apart all you want but it's already done and everyone is fine, so leave it alone.” 

 

Castiel's smile returned warmly, more than before and he squeezed Dean's hand back. “Yes, Dean.”

 

“Do you want another sandwich, Dad?” Nemamiah asked.

 

“Later, Kiddo.” Dean kissed her head. “You need to rot your brain with more TV first. You're only a month old and you're already too smart for your age.”

 

“I'm not a baby, Dad, I'm part ethereal being...”

 

“And you sound exactly like your father too. Shush.”

 

Sam chuckled as he walked out of the bathroom, fully dressed in clean clothes. “Dean, True Servant of Happiness and Harmony.”

 

“I will kick your ass, Sam,” Dean warned and got up, setting Nemamiah down in Castiel's lap. He still needed his shower. Sam just gave a slightly exaggerated bow for Dean to enter the bathroom and Dean gave him a shove for it. 

 

Once under the warm spray, Dean rethought about his dedication to Castiel and their daughter. Just because they had a kid didn't mean they had to settle down and get married and act normal. They didn't need to. Dean scrubbed himself down, thinking yeah, he didn't need it. He never had it, so he didn't have to strive for that white picket fence.

 

But he wanted it. That was what made the difference. Maybe he liked the thought of living with Castiel, somewhat normal. Maybe he could sit down in an area like Bobby did and have a home base. It wouldn't be so bad. Nemamiah wouldn't have to move around like he did as a kid and she could go to school like Sam always wanted to. Castiel and Dean could, you know, be domestic. 

 

When the world wasn't falling apart of course. Dean took a deep breath. Okay, maybe it wasn't so ridiculous that Castiel mentioned marriage so early. But still, it was a big step, and Dean couldn't just jump into that before knowing if he was going to live past Lucifer turning everyone into croats. 

 

If they lived past the apocalypse, Dean decided he'd try the domestic life. It wouldn't be so bad. Nemamiah finding friends. Dean and Castiel eating in the backyard. Hell, Even Sam and his boyfriend archangel would be tolerable. Maybe it would be a little slice of Heaven. Because Dean had a smile on his face after actually thinking of building a white picket fence. 


	53. Bumps in the Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (5.17, Hammer Of The Gods, after everyone escaped the Elysian Fields Hotel)
> 
> (Note, Castiel doesn't have angel powers, thus he could not get Adam from Heaven's grasp, thus Zachariah is still alive. Thus episode 5.18 basically didn't happen with Team Free Will in it.)

Kali got off at the first gas station stop. Like the deity she was, she was off, gone in a poof of fire and smoke. Dean was out of the Impala first, cursing at the Hindu Goddess for doing it in the Impala and the smoke drove everyone out of the car.

 

“Damn it, she could have at least gotten out first,” Dean muttered, checking the back seat for scorch marks as Nemamiah and Castiel were watching him. All of the doors were open, airing out the Impala interior while it was dark out and the only light they had was a street light that flickered. Sam was less worried about the Impala. Sam's mind was focused on the last few moments of Gabriel ushering everyone out of the building; his angel blade out and pointed at Lucifer. They hadn't driven far; maybe 5 or 10 minutes before Kali got discontent with being escorted. Then Dean told her if she didn't like it she could leave. So, it was partly Dean's fault for giving the goddess of destruction a reason to get fired up.

 

“Everything alright?” Castiel asked finally and Dean stood up, leaning an arm against the door.

 

“Yeah,” Dean said and Nemamiah gave a brief cough to clear the smoke she'd inhaled. It hadn't been pleasant for anyone. “Hey squirt, you alright?”

 

“Yeah, Dad,” she confirmed and Sam finally gave into checking his phone. How long could a battle between two archangels last? Sam always thought there would be gigantic blasts off in the distance, so the silence really bothered him. Gabriel would have called him if the fight had gone well. If Lucifer had been defeated, it would be cause for celebration. Apocalypse averted.

 

But when was anything that simple part of Sam and Dean's life?

 

“We should keep going,” Dean suggested finally, looking at Sam, who was leaning against the car hood. “Put some distance between us and Lucifer.” Sam looked up, passing his phone between his hands.

 

“Maybe we should go back and check?” Sam said. Dean and Castiel both gave him wide eyed 'Do you have a death wish?' look in their eyes. It was very similar and it may have been funny if Sam wasn't feeling so grave. Sam had a bad feeling in his gut, and it had started since Gabriel last made eye contact with him, making sure he was out with Dean and Kali.

 

“You want to GO BACK to where Lucifer was last seen?” Dean asked incredulously. “Should I remind you that Gabriel helped us get the hell out of there?”

 

“Gabriel still being there is the part that bothers me,” Sam said and Dean sighed.

 

“Look, we'll give it til morning and then if we don't hear from him, we'll watch his... movie.” Dean looked at the DVD that sat on the front seat. The one that read Casa Erotica. Sam fiddled with his phone again but nodded. He could call Gabriel's cell on the road, maybe find out if Gabriel decided to hide again. 

 

Everyone piled in and Nemamiah was growing sleepy in the back. They hadn't exactly had time to sleep at the Hotel and it was nearly 2am. Little nephilim needed a lot of shut eye. Castiel wrapped an arm around her so she could have a comfortable position leaning against him and Dean drove. Sam sat shotgun again and opened his phone as they pulled back out onto the road.

 

Sam tried Gabriel's number and felt the heat drain out of him when he got the automated teller telling him his number was no longer in service. Dean gave him a sympathetic look that said that Dean was assuming the worst and Sam didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to think of a possibility where Lucifer won and Gabriel lost.

 

“He might have it off,” Sam said meekly. “For hiding or can't answer...” Maybe it was just easier to think of Gabriel running away from the fight, like Gabriel had run away from Heaven and his brothers before. The archangel was just such a good actor. He'd hidden for millenia from Heaven in a witness protection. Hid himself and created a new identity with a whole mythology gathered behind it. Gabriel was a trickster at heart after all. 

 

“How about you call Bobby and tell him about our close encounter with the Devil?” Dean suggested. Sam nodded grimly and dialed Bobby's number. It took a few rings, but Bobby picked up.

 

“Hey Bobby,” Sam greeted. “Sorry if I woke you.”

 

“Well ya weren't the first one tonight.” Bobby's rough voice was not as tired as Sam expected. “Something just crash landed upstairs and I've been having a hell of a time trying to find out what it is.” Sam frowned, not sure exactly what had happened.

 

“What do you mean crash landed?” Sam asked slowly, gaining curious looks from around the car. 

 

“I mean something sounded like it crashed through a wall a few minutes ago and it's been eerie quiet ever since.” Bobby there was a pause before he grumbled, “And I might... need some assistance checking it out.”

 

“Nothing's come down?” Sam asked and Dean was already making the turns for Bobby's direction, taking the nearly vacant highway towards South Dakota. It wasn't like Bobby could just run upstairs and check, and the older hunter sounded agitated for it.

 

“Nothin's moved.” Bobby sounded weary. “And I ain't gonna get any sleep til I know what it is.” 

 

Sam nodded. “We're on our way. Maybe 5 hours away.”

 

“4 if there are no cops,” Dean put in.

 

“Keep us updated,” Sam continued.

 

“Gonna be a long damn night,” Bobby said.

 

“Yeah, it is.” Sam sighed and they said brief good-byes.

 

-

 

Nemamiah was sleeping and so was Sam by the time hey arrived at Bobby's. Dean nudged Sam's shoulder and Sam groaned, shaking his head to wake himself better. Castiel was on the verge of nodding off but shook his head awake. Morning sun lit up the lot and Castiel slid out of the car after the Winchester brothers did.

 

“You're not gonna stay with Miah?” Dean whispered a hushed breath over the car hood to Castiel and Castiel shook his head. 

 

“She's still sleeping and you're not leaving me at the car while you go hunt something,” Castiel reasoned.

 

“It might not even be something,” Dean whisper-argued and Sam rubbed his eyes, shutting his door quietly and heading up to Bobby's porch, where Bobby had his shotgun and bullets. Bobby had been extra cautious about ammo since the horde of zombies broke into his house. 

 

“Nothing's moved?” Sam asked while Dean and Castiel were discussing whether or not in was dangerous enough for 2 or 3 able bodied hunters to go check it out.

 

“No, and I'd rather it come down and fight than take up residence,” Bobby told him and Sam took up one of Bobby's spare shotguns. 

 

Sam looked back to the arguing couple and he could feel how long of a night it had been. Nearly getting killed by a bunch of angry demi-gods. Nearly getting caught by Lucifer. If Dean hadn't had quick thinking, they wouldn't have gotten everyone out, including Castiel and Nemamiah. And then Gabriel barged in to save the day... Sam had been hoping Gabriel would contact him, but there had been nothing and Sam really didn't want to see what was on that DVD.

 

“I got it, guys,” Sam told them both and Dean and Castiel looked at him. “If it was something vicious, it would have come after Bobby already. Might be nothing.” Sam headed inside, but his senses were still peeled as though they were hunting a spirit. He walked up the stairs as quietly as possible, knowingly stepping over the stairs that creaked the most. He first checked the hall, finding nothing out of the ordinary, but once he checked the spare bedroom, Sam mouth opened in surprise.

 

First of all, there was a great big gaping hole in the ceiling and roof debris decorated the floor. The cot had collapsed under the amount of force and junk from the attic had fallen in with the crash. There was a lamp half fallen in from the attic but caught by its cord on something. Second, in the middle of the mess was Gabriel. He was the stillest that Sam had ever seen him. Sam had never seen Gabriel sleep, or even pretend to sleep. Gabriel was movement, always doing something, even when it was as simple as breathing. But now he just lay on his back, half sprawled in the mess.

 

“Shit...” Sam muttered and put the gun aside. He cleared some of the sharper splintering wood away as he moved closer and he checked for vitals. He took Gabriel's wrist in his hand and held his breath. He sighed in relief when he got a slow pulse. Gabriel was covered in dust and house bits and Sam dusted off his face and leaned over him. “Gabriel, come on. Sleep time is over.” Gabriel didn't react though. Sam's heart raced and thought back to when Castiel had zapped himself back from the past. Castiel had gone into some sort of comatose state and hadn't woken up for a good 15 hours. Dean had been silently freaking out during that time; Especially since Castiel had still been in severance. But Castiel woke up almost as quickly as he'd passed out. Not like now, where Castiel was sleeping and had grown to enjoy coffee runs with Dean.

 

Sam took a deep breath, told himself that Gabriel too might have an angel comatose state to go into when he's nearly out of grace. Sam did a quick check for injuries and found one. There was a hole in Gabriel's shirt by his heart. It surprised Sam to find it was glowing the type of light that Anna's grace had. It wasn't exactly bleeding. It was surprisingly bright, like the moon decided to shine as bright as the sun. Sam took up a towel and laid it over the wound and brushed away a bunch of the debris. He then scooped up Gabriel under his knees and shoulders. Gabriel was dead weight but Sam managed and Bobby's bed was the only vacant spot that came to mind. Sam laid the archangel there, hoping that Gabriel would wake up soon.

 

“Any luck up there?” Dean spoke loud enough for Sam to hear him from the bottom of the stairs and Sam cleared his throat, staring at Gabriel without even realizing it.

 

“It... it's Gabriel,” Sam managed and there were a few thumping steps closer and Dean popped into the bedroom with Sam. 

 

Dean took one look at Gabriel and said, “Looks like he got ran over with a Lucifer sized truck.”

 

“Yeah.” Sam sat on the edge of the bed, staring and trying to stay in a state of clinical mind. Because all the What ifs were starting to edge in as soon as he determined all he could do was wait. What if Gabriel didn't wake up? What if Gabriel's heart gave out? Or grace gave out; how ever it worked. What if Gabriel was mortally wounded and he had to watch him die? “His heart beat is stable.” Dean nodded sympathetically.

 

“Yeah... but why's he here?” Dean asked. Sam shrugged.

 

“I... don't know.” Sam admitted helplessly. “He'll have to tell us when he wakes up.” 'When' was a hope word, because Sam really didn't want to say the alternative. Dean was quiet a moment and Gabriel didn't even stir. He was still covered in dirt and Sam started brushing it away with his hand.

 

“Well, Bobby won't be happy harboring him.” Dean shrugged and then thumbed out the door. “I'm going to let them know what's happening.”

 

“Okay. I'm going to stay here.” Sam nodded, and as an after thought looked to Dean. “The guest room... I don't think Bobby will like what Gabe did.” Dean looked confused and exited the room to go check on 'what Gabe did'.

 

“Holy shit.” Dean could be heard from the room Sam was in and that had Bobby asking what the hell was going on. Sam breathed a quiet laugh and looked back to Gabriel. He brushed off the dust from Gabriel's lips and gave him a soft kiss. 

 

“You better wake up.” Sam told him, feeling his eyes get wet. “I can't lose you again.”


	54. Otherwise Known as Plan C

It took 13 hours from the time Sam found Gabriel for the archangel to wake up. In that time, Dean, Castiel, and Nemamiah had gotten a motel room in town. Sam had left Gabriel once to get food, and he'd slept a broken 9 hours next to the unconscious archangel. Angel comatose was probably one of the most frustrating things Sam had to sit through. He had his computer and Bobby put him to work on some hunting research while he was there. Sam couldn't just leave Gabriel. Not with Bobby unable to go upstairs and check on him. Even then, Sam couldn't leave Gabriel just in Bobby's care.

 

Sam was reading when it happened. He had grown so used to the stillness that his whole body jerked when he felt a warm, dry hand grasp his wrist. Sam was lying next to Gabriel on his side; turned towards him, just to make sure he was still there every couple of pages. This time Gabriel's dark gold eyes were opened tiredly and a slow smile creased Gabriel's mouth as he gained Sam's attention.

 

“So, this what it's like when you wake up next to me?” Gabriel asked slowly and Sam's heart was thudding in his ribs. Sam held very still and wondered if he moved too much, Gabriel might fly off. Or maybe he'd wake up from dozing off and find Gabriel still enough to be dead again.

 

“With a little less worrying if you're alive, maybe.” Sam swallowed uneasily and closed his book. “Are you okay? What happened back there?”

 

“Mm... Back up plan of my back up plan.” Gabriel took a deep lethargic breath and made a great effort to sit up. Gabriel groaned, and his hand moved up to his chest, where Sam had taken advantage of the coma to clean and patch the glowing wound; it was all Sam could do was treat it as any normal injury. Sam sat up quickly, as though there was something he could do to help but Gabriel waved a hand, chuckling a bit. “I'm okay, I'm okay. Lucy got really close to stabbing my main grace.” He laid back down and when his body relaxed and so did Sam; at least a little bit. For once, Gabriel looked his size, a little smaller and less able than Sam, and Sam didn't like that look on his archangel.

 

“You sure?” Sam's hand slid into Gabriel's. Gabriel nodded, a forced smile coming into play.

 

“Well, I could always look forward to a little sexual healing,” Gabriel said and Sam rolled his eyes. Gabriel was fine enough if he was making those kinds of jokes.

 

“What happened?” Sam sat cross-legged next to Gabriel. Gabriel let out a slow breath, as though pain was ebbing and he squeezed Sam's gently. It wasn't as strong as Sam had hoped. It wasn't angel-strong.

 

“Lots of stuff happened,” Gabriel said. “I jumped in, saved the day, nearly got stabbed in the heart for it.” He closed his eyes, “I'm just really glad Lucifer loves to have the last word.” Sam squeezed Gabriel's hand, gaining his attention back.

 

“But, you crash landed at Bobby's house,” Sam told him. “Literally. How did you get here?” Gabriel took a deep breath.

 

“Okay, this is my _'back up of my back up plan'_ for a reason.” Gabriel eyed Sam with a weary smile. “You see, this isn't exactly the first time I've been _'killed'_. I mean, Dean's stabbed me, you stabbed me, Kali.” He waved a tired hand, as though gathering his thoughts. “I have this little spell set up. It's rather simple really. When ever my vessel gets stabbed fatally. I get zapped back to a safe spot and a double plays out the death role. Cause well, being an archangel, it's really hard to fake a vessel being dead.” Sam frowned.

 

“But... you seem really out of it this time.” Sam remembered every other time Gabriel just waltzed up, like nothing happened to him. This time was different.

 

“Well this time a real angel blade was involved.” Gabriel's thumb rubbed against Sam's knuckles. “Usually it only takes a bit of grace to get flung back. It's sort of like a sling shot. The rubber is always ready to snap back, but the spell needs to be triggered to happen. And this was Lucy, I couldn't just pull a simple trick on him.” Gabriel adjusted as he was laying, looking uncomfortable. “Do you know how much grace it takes to fake an archangel death?”

 

Sam took a deep breath. “A lot?” There wasn't exactly solid measurements of grace that Sam knew of.

 

“About all of it.” Gabriel rested his eyes for a moment and when he opened them he chuckled dryly. “Don't give me that look.” Sam shook his head, closing his mouth.

 

“Does... this mean you're graceless?” Sam asked worriedly. One fallen angel was enough to handle, but two would be maddening.

 

“Nah, I'm not a simple angel.” Gabriel squeezed his hand warmly. “I'm just on empty and my core needs to recharge...” Gabriel frowned. “But... well, may take a few weeks.”

 

“Weeks?” Sam's brows rose high.

 

“Alright, so I've never burned up this much before. Might be a couple months for all I know.” Gabriel rolled his eyes upwards, as if frustrated. “Nn, you know, this pain thing sucks.” Sam smiled sadly and leaned down, giving Gabriel a soft kiss on his lips.

 

“You scared me. I thought you died back there,” Sam said. Gabriel looked up at Sam, face sobering.

 

“Nearly was, truthfully.” Gabriel sank into the bed more. “But you can't get rid of me that easily.”

 

“Well Bobby might finish the job once he sees what you did to his roof,” Sam joked uneasily. At least Gabriel wasn't in immediate danger. 

 

“Yeah?” Gabriel's brows rose. “I guess I took a sky dive. I figured appearing in his living room would pretty much get me killed.” Sam shrugged awkwardly, because Bobby already had a dislike for the archangel; and Bobby _was_ paranoid. He was alive for a reason. Gabriel smiled. “Ever see that movie, Grumpy Old Men?” Sam slowly nodded, it was one of those movies about two old men that were best friends but worst enemies. “Put them together and you've got Bobby Singer.” Sam smiled a little.

 

“You're a grumpy old man too,” Sam reminded him and Gabriel grinned.

 

“Ah, now it all makes sense,” Gabriel said wistfully. “In the end of the movie, I'll put the dead fish in the back seat of his truck and I'll dump the snow from his roof onto his head.” Sam patted Gabriel's hand, because Gabriel just sounded delirious now.

 

“This isn't Show Time, Gabriel,” Sam reminded him. Sam didn't want another TV Land experience.

 

“It could be.” Gabriel squeezed his hand back. “Guess I made it this far because Kali released everyone's blood spell.” Sam nodded.

 

“Yeah, she smoked up the Impala and disappeared,” Sam told him.

 

Gabriel smiled fondly. “That's Kali for you. All fire and smoke.” Sam's smile dropped, pursing his lips. He hadn't liked Gabriel's scheme to seduce Kali into getting their blood back. And Sam could only take so many death scares in one night.

 

“You and Kali... you were really attached to her,” Sam said quietly.

 

“Years ago.” Gabriel shrugged. “You could say she was an old flame.” Gabriel's smile lost a little of it's shine when Sam still felt uncomfortable. “Hey, look, it was a century or two ago. It didn't work out. What's done is done.”

 

“You don't... you know, still love her.” Sam couldn't help but feel a little insecure. Kali was a deity. She was long lived, and Sam had to admit, she was aesthetically attractive. Gabriel sighed, closing his eyes a moment.

 

“Do you know what happens when a moth touches a flame?” Gabriel asked and Sam nodded, the cliche metaphor was obvious. 

 

“They get burned,” Sam said.

 

“Bingo.” Gabriel smiled. “And when that moth is an idiot, he'll keep getting burned til he learned his lesson.” He paused. “In theory anyway, but I don't think I did.” Gabriel squeezed Sam's hand again, giving a brighter smile. “You're a much worse addiction.” Sam's face flushed, but a little smile wiggled onto his face. Gabriel never failed to be a charmer.

 

“I don't know whether I should take that as a compliment or a blame,” Sam said mildly. He'd done a lot to Gabriel. And Gabriel had done a lot to Sam. Good and Bad. They were anything but perfect. Gabriel pulled Sam's hand towards him and kissed Sam's fingers.

 

“I threw all my chips in with you, Kiddo,” Gabriel told him. “And thanks for not killing me while I was out of commission.” Sam nodded, face warm. Gabriel was giving the distinct impression that he wouldn't have expected the same with Kali.

 

“Of course not,” Sam said. “I want you around as long as possible.” Gabriel smiled easily.

 

“Good to hear.” Gabriel sighed easily, sinking into the mattress. “So, where's the nesting pair?” Sam blinked, remembering Dean and Castiel.

 

“They got a motel room for the night,” Sam said. “They're still recovering from the hotel. Especially Miah.” Gabriel nodded thoughtfully.

 

“She puts up a good bluff for a fledgling,” Gabriel said with air of pride.

 

“Dean and Cas have been training her,” Sam said, remembering that Nemamiah had gone with Dean and Castiel to get the rest of the guests out of the freezer. She'd torn off the handle with a little prompting from Castiel and when one of the deities denied them an exit, she'd flared her wings and kept him at bay for at least a few moments with a wooden stake. Of course, several deities against one young nephilim didn't go well for their side. All 4 of them -Sam, Dean, Castiel, and Nemamiah- ended up on lock down with blood spells.

 

“Half assed training.” Gabriel grimaced. “She didn't utilize any grace in there.”

 

“Cas can't exactly teach her to use it. He's graceless, remember?” Sam defended. He remembered what Castiel looked like the last time he'd tried to teach Nemamiah to heal someone. He looked like he could have keeled over at any moment and ashened to an unnatural grey color. “Cas gets really bad migraines when he tries to transfer any angelic knowledge.” Gabriel frowned, as though that didn't make sense.

 

“What?” Gabriel asked.

 

“Cas says because he's graceless. I mean, he is human now.” Sam shrugged. He didn't know exactly how it worked, he could only translate the bits that Castiel has said. To Sam is sounded like there was a wire in Castiel's huge head that was shorted. Sam sometimes thought angels were like computers and sometimes the analogies matched up. “Maybe he doesn't have the psychic connection he did to his grace. Or maybe because he's cut off from Heaven?”

 

Gabriel thought about it, seriously, and finally shook his head. “Personal experiences and passing down knowledge should not be hindered if he's naturally procreating...” Gabriel trailed off, thinking deeply about it. Sam was glad Gabriel at least seemed to take the situation seriously and knew something was wrong with it. Gabriel laid back, and rubbed his temples; as though a thought occurred to him. “Oh, duh.”

 

“What?” Sam raised his brows curiously.

 

Gabriel slowly sat up, finding more strength the more he was awake. He propped himself up, crossing one leg under the other. “I know Michael and Raphael are still running the show. They control who breeds and who does not. Except for _moi_ of course.” Gabriel gestured to himself, because he was the one who escaped the system of Heaven before the first Heaven war broke out. “I know there was a department in Heaven being trained to alter a rogue angel's thoughts.” Gabriel paused, looking at Sam. “Michael said it was for angels on the verge of falling like Lucifer. But it also sounded like a load of bull.” Sam thought about that.

 

“Didn't you alter those angel's memories back in Indiana?” Sam asked.

 

“Blocked their memories, added some new ones, yeah.” Gabriel's mouth twitched a little into a bitter smile, “But I don't do it willy-nilly. It's dangerous poking around in another angel's head.” Gabriel tapped his temple with his index finger. “Us archangels, God made us to have authority over Heaven. Keep our children safe and happy. So that humans could do their human thing, and we're to love you.” Gabriel smiled a little. “And you know, I don't think it's a bad plan sometimes. But there's something about plans than never quite go as they should. Sometimes I see what the old man saw in all of you though.” Sam felt more like a child when Gabriel talked about Heaven. Because normally, Gabriel didn't look or act that old. He acted ten years old and maybe looked ten years older than Sam. But when he talked about Heaven, in the fondest of ways, Sam felt the age gap of 10 thousand years. Especially as he talked about humanity as a whole.

 

“So what do you think they did to Cas?” Sam asked, not feeling energetic enough to talk about God's plan. About the God that had basically told Dean and Sam to give up their search for him. The God that he prayed to for years and turned out he never even listened.

 

“If I know my brothers, and I do, they blocked off his knowledge-passing because they chose him to go through severance,” Gabriel said thoughtfully, coming down to a more human sounding answer. “Heaven's back up plan of their back up plan. Since they put him in severance to go keep Dean in check, why not make sure if he doesn't do as told, make it so he can't teach an new angel, or nephilim, how to protect themselves.” Sam stared for a moment. Heaven sounded conspicuous, with mind altering departments and cupids making humans breed to keep blood lines going. But preventing a parent to teach their child the essentials of their race sounded ridiculously evil for a species that was supposed to be good.

 

“Why are they so against nephilim?” Sam asked. Gabriel shrugged.

 

“The product of a human and an angel.” Gabriel smiled slowly. “Terrible for some angels who think they're above watching over humans. Because you know, it might make some realize we're not that different.” Gabriel shrugged. “Maybe that's just the poet in me. I just think Michael is a massive prick and Raphael doesn't like to see mixed blood. Raphael is a bit racist.” Sam stared at Gabriel a moment and ran his hand down his face and Gabriel chuckled at Sam's mixed reaction. “Ironic, don't you think? From a human's point of view anyway.”

 

“Let's not get into that,” Sam said and Gabriel nodded.

 

“Fine, fine.” Gabriel took a slow, deep breath. “So, did you watch that DVD?” Sam slowly shook his head. Dean had gone off to find his little family a place to nest for the day. He liked the way Gabriel had said it. Castiel and Dean nesting.

 

“No, it's in the Impala still,” Sam admitted. “Should I have? I sort of forgot about it when I saw you here.” Gabriel waved his hand.

 

“Nah. It was sort of a last will and testament sort of thing. In case my spell didn't work with Lucifer.” Gabriel shrugged.

 

“It... was in a porno case,” Sam said slowly.

 

Gabriel smiled tiredly. “I wanted to go out with a _bang_.”

 

Sam didn't find the joke all that funny. Sam swallowed as it occurred to Sam that Gabriel might not be there. His spell may have not worked and he could have been dead. Sam took a deep, shaky breath and wrapped his arms around Gabriel, squeezing him as tight as he dared while Gabriel was injured. Gabriel's arm reached around and he rubbed Sam's back.

 

“No crying. I'm alive, so you're supposed to be happy,” Gabriel assured him with a small laugh.

 

“Shut up,” Sam told him. “I'm not crying.” He refused to let his tears fall, blinking them back. He was relieved more than anything. 

 

“Yeah, sure. Okay.” Gabriel hugged Sam back. Sam breathed more easy after a few moments. Gabriel was alive, so no worries there. But Gabriel didn't beat Lucifer. They still had two rings to find. And the only long run plan Sam still had was fighting off Lucifer's possession to stick him back into the cage. Sam didn't have a 'back up of a back up plan'. Just the one.

 

“You're coming with us,” Sam said when he pulled back and Gabriel made a face of uncertainty.

 

“I'm not sure I'd be approved for company,” Gabriel said cautiously.

 

“I don't see why.” Sam picked up his phone. He needed to call Dean and tell him Gabriel was awake. Bobby certainly hadn't appreciated harboring Gabriel for a few hours in his bed, and they'd already asked so much of Bobby. Leaving Gabriel here to heal would do more harm than good. Though having two handicapped old men in the same house would make an interesting comedy. Sam thought it would be more practical for Gabriel to go with them; Dean, Castiel, and Nemamiah. 

 

“I'm pretty sure Castiel and Dean would see me as a liability,” Gabriel said. “I'd rather lie low somewhere.”

 

“You'll lie low with us,” Sam insisted. Surely Castiel wasn't still bitter towards Gabriel after Gabriel saved them from Lucifer. Gabriel had also saved them from angels that had been after Nemamiah. Dean on the other hand may not be as welcoming because it was a new addition to his car. Besides always having Gabriel near him, Sam thought it would be a great advantage against Heaven and Lucifer. “And you let me worry about talking to Dean and Cas.” Gabriel heaved a heavy sigh, a tired one.

 

“Well, since you're so dead set on it,” Gabriel relented and Sam dialed Dean's number, preparing himself for a small argument with Dean over Gabriel's company. 

 

Though Sam did have a back up argument from Bobby for Sam's case. Gabriel already trashed his roof and Sam could count on Bobby's anger to shut Dean up.

 


	55. One Big Dysfunctional Family

Dean hung up his phone after a short lived argument with Bobby and tossed it on the bed rubbing his temples. Castiel was sorting through local news papers, looking for something for them to hunt. They still had no leads on the next horseman and Castiel couldn't sit well after the Elysian Fields Hotel. They'd all slept and eaten well whilst they were waiting for Gabriel to wake up. Sam had refused to leave and Dean wasn't ready to fight him on the issue at the time. They'd all been tired and a day or two in a normal motel room was a reprieve while Gabriel was in comatose. 

 

Castiel had checked on Gabriel himself, to put Sam's mind at ease. Castiel had never seen an archangel need to fall into a coma. It was a very vulnerable condition. It wasn't like human sleep, where one could wake up at any time. The coma pulled in what remaining grace there was to stay functioning. It was the last threads of one's power and the angel hoped someone was watching out for the vessel they were in. Castiel was grateful that Dean and Sam looked after him and the unsplit Nemamiah months before.

 

“Sam's bringing Gabriel with us,” Dean said with a gruff sigh. Castiel blinked up from his newspaper, frowning.

 

“I would think it would be more beneficial to his health if he stayed with Bobby,” Castiel said flatly.

 

“Bobby says _no_.” Dean sat in the chair next to Castiel and Nemamiah looked up from the comics section of the newspaper that Dean had given her.

 

“Uncle Gabriel is coming with us?” She smiled, being the only one in the room that looked happy with the prospect. Castiel knew Gabriel had charmed her with little tricks when he'd visited Bobby. Castiel didn't appreciate Gabriel's stolen time with Nemamiah. Gabriel had protected them from Heaven's angels, so Castiel still felt partly in debt for that. But that didn't mean Gabriel was reliable or responsible for Castiel's child.

 

“Not sure how everyone is going to fit in Baby,” Dean said with a note of complaint.

 

“That's easy,” Nemamiah said with an upbeat tone. “Three people in the back and two in front.” Dean leaned over and ruffled Nemamiah's fluffy hair.

 

“You still need to learn about sarcasm,” Dean told her.

 

“Sleeping arrangements,” Castiel brought up and Dean met eyes with Castiel. One motel room for 5 people just wouldn't be a possibility. It was functional of course, but the 4 of them had been in close quarters within the past 2 months and tempers frayed easier when there was so little space. While traveling it was a necessary evil, but if they all had to be packed into one motel room, someone was going to get hurt.

 

“We'll... have to get another room,” Dean replied. “I don't want to see them getting handsy with each other.” Dean concluded, somewhat annoyed. “This is going to be hard on the credit cards.” Dean tended to have a short use system with the credit cards, so it would be less likely that there would be a problem with the police. Castiel did see the silver lining with the obstacle.

 

“Having our own room wouldn't be so bad,” Castiel mentioned and Dean nodded, also seeing a bit of the benefit to the plan. Dean was certainly more affectionate without Sam around, which delighted Castiel immensely.

 

“Yeah, point taken.” Dean nodded and smiled at Nemamiah. “Miah, you can have your own bed.” Nemamiah blinked and showed no enthusiasm for this information.

 

“Okay, Dad,” she said and looked back to the colored news print.

 

Castiel's eyes returned to browsing the local news paper for a faint hope of horsemen activities. Over all, Castiel felt it would have been easier if Gabriel had died a warrior's death against Lucifer. Castiel wasn't ungrateful, he wouldn't protest Gabriel's presence as boldly as Dean would. But the fact still remained that Gabriel had thrown Castiel -while in severance and losing precious grace by the day- into a horror movie with flying chainsaws. Not only that, Gabriel had abandoned Heaven. Gabriel had left before the war had ever been resolved. Gabriel was the one who had isolated himself from all other angels and left Heaven with one less archangel to keep order. Castiel had accepted this fact several millenia ago, but the injustice of it still remained in Castiel's mind now that he knew Gabriel was alive. It left a bitter taste in the back of this throat.

 

Perhaps it should have been unrelated, but Castiel also felt anger for Gabriel having killed Dean several times years before. He was sure Dean was aggravated about several things Gabriel had done as well. All the tricks and cruel treatment might have been forgiven and forgotten by Sam, but Castiel was not so quick to allow Gabriel into their daily lives. Having him be an estranged person Sam occasionally left to see was far more comfortable than traveling with him. 

 

Gabriel and Sam were there within the hour, borrowing one of Bobby's cars to make the trip down. Dean opened the door after the knock and standing there was Sam, with Gabriel behind him with less energy to his being. Castiel could feel it, the air lacked the density that a powerful being generated.

 

“Uncle Gabriel, are you feeling better?” Nemamiah was first to ask and Gabriel gave her a smile as he followed Sam in.

 

“Well, I'm conscious now, but that only means I'm awake for the joys of healing.” Gabriel patted her head, giving her a smile. “My, how you've grown since I last saw you.” Nemamiah beamed.

 

“Yes, I have,” she said proudly and Castiel already felt annoyance with Gabriel planting a large dose of hubris in Nemamiah's mind. Physically Nemamiah had changed little in the past couple months, but in terms of learning she had developed phenomenally.

 

Dean was already pulling Sam outside to speak with him and Sam didn't seem eager to follow, but did as his older brother asked. Castiel could see them having a small discussion out the window. Castiel hoped they were being civil and talking about the room arrangements. Gabriel was certainly aware that Sam had been drawn away from him because the archangel had watched them go, but it didn't interrupt his conversation with Nemamiah.

 

“So, what have you been up to since I've been away?” Gabriel asked her, taking a seat on one of the beds.

 

“Lots of stuff.” Nemamiah hopped from one foot to the other, rounding up the daily activities they usually went through. “Dad drives us around. Dad and Father train me. I read. Uncle Sam teaches me stuff on the computer. And Dad, Father, and Uncle Sam go help people.” Gabriel nodded and opened his mouth but Nemamiah beat him to it, wings fluttering excitedly. “Can you tell me more stories while you're here?” Gabriel gave a wry smile.

 

“Yeah, I'll have some time to tell you stories.” Gabriel glanced up and met Castiel's eyes. “Maybe when your father isn't glaring at me.” Castiel realized his brows were rather tense and he held up the news paper -which he'd already read fully through by then- to block their view.

 

“I'm not glaring,” Castiel said.

 

“You have Uncle Sam's wrinkly face,” Nemamiah told him and Castiel sighed, telling himself to not be annoyed with both of them at the moment. Castiel folded the paper neatly, eyes focusing on that task.

 

“I simply think you need to let Gabriel rest since he woke up only an hour ago.” Castiel decided a neutral excuse was best and Nemamiah shuffled her feel.

 

“Okay.” She looked back to Gabriel. “Can you still make lollipops and subspaces?” Gabriel shrugged, mixed with a slight grimace.

 

“Not yet, Kiddo. May be a week before I can conjure anything physical.” Gabriel waved his hand, as if testing the air. “Yeah, definitely make that a week or two.” He physically started popping his knuckles with his other hand. “Still can't do anything out side of my body.” Gabriel finished his annoying joint popping before he wagged his index finger at her. “Don't blow out all your grace unless it's an emergency.”

 

“Okay.” Nemamiah paused. “How do I _not_ do that?” Castiel with held a sigh and Gabriel looked amused by her ignorance.

 

“Well if you don' know how, you can't exactly do it. So you're good.” Gabriel gave Castiel a smile, but his eyes weren't exactly joyous. They looked questioning and Castiel stood up, going to their cooler that had lunch items. 

 

“Nemamiah, how about we prepare some food for everyone?” Castiel asked and Nemamiah perked up. She did like having a hand in making food.

 

“Okay!” She hopped over, a flap of her wings helping her along the way. 

 

Castiel and Nemamiah made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches to tide them over until dinner and Castiel tried not to let Gabriel's presence bother him too much. He didn't like the questioning look, especially from Gabriel. The look that knew that above all else, Nemamiah should know how to use her grace. She had as much in her little body as a full fledged angel. But the last time Castiel tried to teach her how to manipulate her power, his head burned with a wildfire. Nothing had been passed on, making his efforts seem futile. Castiel hadn't tried the feat again. The memory of that day still hurt, because Nemamiah had a birthright to that power; and Castiel had failed to give it to her. 

 

Sam and Dean returned, both looking a bit worn, as though a minor argument had taken place but neither could come up with a full win-win situation.

 

“Okay, we're going to continue west in the morning,” Dean said loud enough for them all to hear as Sam sat on the same bed where Gabriel had taken up a lounging position. Gabriel seemed to also sense the tension between the two brothers and patted Sam's back to let him know he was there. Sam didn't react much externally, but then again, Castiel knew Dean also didn't react much to touch when Sam was around. “We can squeeze into this one motel room for the night, but when we hit the next town, we're going to get two for the sake of everyone's sanity.” Sam shot Dean a quiet glare.

 

“Can we take a pit stop in Nebraska?” Gabriel asked and Dean frowned with annoyance.

 

“Nebraska is south, so no, we're not making a pit stop there,” Dean said stubbornly.

 

“Dean.” Sam had a warning tone but Gabriel sat up.

 

“Listen Dino, I need to make one stop, and it's one state away; lucky for you.” Gabriel waved a hand, bringing up his point. “That's the last place I put my apartment and I need to get a few things.”

 

“The last place you put your apartment?” Dean raise a brow.

 

“I can't exactly pop over right now and get what I need, now can I? Being low on juice makes this sort of a problem.”

 

Dean folded his arms. “First of all, it's weird that you have an apartment.”

 

“It's weird that you always stay in low class motel rooms. But do I judge, noooo.” Gabriel stood. “If you're worried about time, Sam and I could take that hunk of junk Bobby loaned us and run up there while you sleep. But it's critical that I get there soon, so I don't have time to argue with you.” Sam blinked, as though surprised that Gabriel was being so insistent on it. Gabriel looked at Sam and then folded his arms. “Or I can go alone. You don't have to come, Sam.”

 

“No, I'd go,” Sam said and Dean's frowned deepened. The last time Sam and Dean were separated, Sam had nearly drank demon blood and Castiel was in the middle of his split. Dean wasn't willing to be a state or two away from Sam if he didn't have to be.

 

“No, we're not splitting up again,” Dean said firmly, looking at Sam. “You're not going with a burnt out archangel on a side trip to who knows where.”

 

“Oh sure, needle my disability, will you,” Gabriel grumbled.

 

“It's just Gabriel's apartment,” Sam defended, as though it was a normal place to go. And with Gabriel's former powers, that wasn't an impossibility.

 

“Don't care, we're _all_ going,” Dean said. “The devil is still on the loose and any supposed little trip we make never ends up going as planned. So if we're going, we're _all_ going.” Gabriel smiled.

 

“Good. All agreed then?” Gabriel waved his hands, encompassing the whole of the group. “We hit Nebraska, and then you can go were ever you like.”

 

“Yes,” Sam said immediately, backing up his lover and looking at Dean sternly. Dean looked highly agitated and looked away.

 

“Fine,” Dean agreed. “Better not be too far out of the way.” Castiel sat back in his chair, two small towers of PB&J sitting on plates and Nemamiah was chowing down one one of them near by. Castiel supposed the argument was really between Dean and Gabriel. To Castiel, it didn't really matter where they went as long as he was with Dean, Nemamiah, and Sam. They still had no immediate leads to the next ring.

 

Gabriel looked to Castiel though. “Any thoughts there, tall, dark, and quiet?” Castiel blinked, realizing Gabriel was addressing him.

 

“We have no case lined up to investigate and I don't believe it's too far out of the way,” Castiel said logically, putting his fingers together and eying Gabriel warily. “I only wonder what you could need though.”

 

“Well I can't let Max starve,” Gabriel said and Dean glared a little more at Gabriel.

 

“Who's Max?” Dean asked.

 

“His dog,” Sam said with a sigh of already knowing Dean's reaction.

 

“ _No dogs in the Impala,_ ” Dean stated fiercely.

 

“I can't just leave him there if I can't go back every day.” Gabriel took up an arguing stance.

 

“It's a rule, no dogs in the car!” Dean stared down at Gabriel and it started up another argument which made Castiel rub his temples. Then then he rubbed his eyes with his palms. How were they going to survive each other, much less the apocalypse?


	56. Family Night Out

The motel room was tolerable when no one was arguing and most of them were sleeping. The Impala, however, was very cramped. It was cramped on the best of days without Gabriel, but one more passenger made it just as important to get those separate rooms when they stopped at the end of the day.

 

Eventually, they all made it to Nebraska in one piece; physically at least. Gabriel was the only one gutsy enough to ask for a change in music, which was of course was met with a “shut your cake hole” from Dean. The group also found out that even if Gabriel was at full power he couldn't be any help with detecting the rings, so there was yet another dead end in their effort to stop the apocalypse.

 

“This is the place,” Gabriel said finally, pointing to an ordinary looking apartment complex.

 

“Great.” Dean found a spot to park. Gabriel got out, and Sam followed after him.

 

“We'll be back in a bit,” Sam promised before closing the door and both disappeared into the building.

 

“I can't believe we're taking a mutt with us,” Dean grumbled, dreading the dog hair and the smell. 

 

“Only until Gabriel gets enough power to transport himself back and forth,” Castiel reminded him from the back seat. 

 

“For all we know that could take _weeks_.” Dean folded his arms and slid down in the leather seats. “ _Months_.” Nemamiah smiled next to Castiel, not protesting to have a dog around. She'd only seen them from afar with other people or on TV. Nemamiah was a little cautious about the subject, probably because Dean protested so long to bringing Max on the trip.

 

Castiel leaned forward and his hand rubbed Dean's shoulder to ease the tense tendons. “Sam is determined to keep Gabriel near by while he's injured. And you won't have to worry about the credit cards on a separate room because Gabriel has several human bank accounts.”

 

“Why does an archangel even have a bank account?” Dean asked, trying not to whine.

 

“He has been on earth far longer than most,” Castiel reminded him. “He also still has several aliases.” Castiel's fingers worked up Dean's neck and rubbed the back of Dean's head. Dean closed his eyes, fully enjoying the short massage before Dean took Castiel's hand and held it for a long moment. There was a nice quiet as they waited and Castiel slowly knitted his fingers with Dean's. Nemamiah peeked out the window, looking at the tall apartment complex. 

 

“We should rest tonight,” Castiel murmured, also tired of all the arguing and scrunched space. “We should do something. Target practice or a movie.” Dean found himself smiling and he rubbed his fingers against Castiel's knuckles. Castiel had to be absolutely burned to start requesting a night off.

 

“Haven't gone to a theater in forever.” Dean mused and looked at Nemamiah, who was taking in the new area from the window. “Hey squirt, how about a movie trip?” A kid had to go to a movie theater at least once before the world ended. 

 

Nemamiah looked back to them. “Is it a long trip?”

 

“Nah, just need a paper and the nearest theater.” Dean smiled, remembering the rare treats of him and Sam going to the local theater when John left them enough money. “It's better than the TV; Bigger screen and no commercials.” Nemamiah smiled.

 

“Okay,” she agreed and slid back into the seat next to Castiel.

 

“We'll see what's playing,” Dean said as Castiel squeezed his hand. Castiel leaned his chin on the seat and Dean could see the faint smile through the tired exterior. Dean decided they were going to have to utilize the other room with Sam and Gabriel that night.

 

There was a sharp 'rat tat!' on the door as a terrier bounced up against the door and Dean cringed, thinking of Baby's paint job. Nemamiah flew to the window and put her hands to the glass, only seeing a glimpse of the white and black splotched face. Castiel leaned back from Dean and Dean untangled their fingers as Sam and Gabriel approached the car. Gabriel was grinning at the dog that was hopping like a spring, carrying a suitcase that was much bigger than Dean wanted it to be. Sam was also carrying a small bag and Dean groaned. This was going to be a pain. 

 

“Did you pack your whole apartment up?” Dean asked as Gabriel opened the back door and Sam had gone to the trunk, tapping on it so Dean would pop it. Dean begrudgingly opened the trunk and Max, the Jack Russel Terrier, grew somewhat hesitant when faced with Nemamiah in person. Nemamiah was too curious to be cautious.

 

“Puppy!” She cried and like any young kid, hopped out to greet the pooch. 

 

“One stop shop is called home, Dino,” Gabriel said astutely and handed Sam his larger suitcase. “Since you're only allowing one stop, might as well take anything incriminating.” Max hopped back from Nemamiah at first and skittered around the car by Sam, who was struggling with the bag in the trunk.

 

“Che.” Dean scoffed. “What, are you wanted by the police too?” Nemamiah followed Max out of Dean's sight and Sam was visibly distracted from his chore by the chase.

 

“And Heaven. And all other remaining gods,” Gabriel replied and scooted in next to Castiel. “I don't think Kali would keep that a secret.” Gabriel slapped his thigh and whistled sharply, making Castiel cringe. Max came bounding in with them and straight into Gabriel's lap for safety. Nemamiah followed in and Gabriel chuckled.

 

“Easy, Nemamiah, you guys haven't even said hi yet.” Gabriel rubbed Max's head and Nemamiah blinked curiously, sitting next to Gabriel on her knees. Sam finally closed the trunk and got into the passenger seat next to Dean, who was trying not to bitch about the dog now being IN the car. “Hold out your hand, like this.” Gabriel held his hand palm up. Max curled up in his lap, seeming to realize Castiel was on the other side of the lap. Castiel watched the scene with a concerned eye. Nemamiah did as she was shown. “Good, now don't pet him, just let him sniff.” Nemamiah held still, hand out to Max with no intent on petting him. But Max was stubborn, having just been chased around the car with a nephilim hot on his tail. Dean started up the car and Max moved, finally sniffing Nemamiah's hand and he drew back, nose down and tucking his paws under himself. Gabriel chuckled. “I think you came on a bit strong outside, Miah.” Nemamiah pouted.

 

“I just wanted to hug him,” she said. “He looks so soft.” Sam pulled Nemamiah's door closed before Dean could start driving.

 

“He is, 'cause he's still got a bit of pudge on him. But give him some time, he'll warm up to you.” Gabriel petted Max between his ears and his neck. “He'll be more lively out of the car.”

 

Dean grimaced, already getting the scent of dog wafting into his car. He just hoped the mutt was well trained enough not to pee or crap in Baby.

 

-

 

“So,” Dean said to Sam once they were packed into their new motel rooms; they had doors right next to each other. “Cas and I were talking about going to a movie.” Sam was unpacking his over night bag in his and Gabriel's room. Gabriel and Nemamiah were outside tossing tennis balls and dog treats at Max in the parking lot; while Castiel played mother bear, watching them very closely.

 

“Movie like... All of us or move as in you, Cas, and Miah family time?” Sam asked slowly. Dean shrugged awkwardly. Admittedly, a movie night used to be a Dean and Sam event, but they hadn't had one in a long, long time. Sam gave a him a raised brow, his stiff and brooding shoulders coming into play a lot in the past 24 hours. There had been a lot of arguing since Gabriel hopped aboard the band wagon. So far no flying fists, but no doubt Sam wanted to take a swing sometimes. 

 

“Just me, Cas, and Miah,” Dean confirmed. “I figured you'd want...” Dean waved towards the door where Gabriel could be seen teasing Max with a ball. “You know, 'couple time'.” Sam sighed, soft but suffering.

 

“What I want is for you two to not bite each others' heads off,” Sam muttered. “You're both so much alike, I hoped you'd get along better.” Dean raised his brows.

 

“Him? I'm nothing like him.” Dean scoffed.

 

“You'd be surprised,” Sam said. “You're both stubborn, loud, and only do things your own way.” Dean folded his arms, frowning at Sam. Sam was pointedly concentrating more on putting his bathroom supplies by the sink than standing around talking to him. 

 

“I didn't want him tagging along in the car. It's packed enough as it is,” Dean said. “And having the mutt is pushing it. We could have dropped him off at his apartment until he gets better; or recharges; or what ever. He doesn't have to come with us if he's going to be useless.”

 

“He's HEALING because he yanked our asses out of the fire.” Sam threw Dean a glare. “Because guess what, Dean. YOU told him to stand up to his family and he DID. And he nearly DIED. Lucifer was 5 feet from us. He was in the same ROOM with us. Gabriel was the only thing keeping him away from us.” Dean looked away and took a deep breath. Lucifer had been there; Dean never felt a room go so cold before. It was just as terrifying as when Michael possessed his father and turned up the heat in that small house. All of the archangels were damn terrifying in their own right. Gabriel was the odd ball. He could come off as an average Joe, but he was still one of those powerful bastards. 

 

“I know he got our asses out of there,” Dean relented. “And I know he helped us when Miah was born. But all the stuff he did. The time loop and TV Land. The people he killed. Those things can't be forgotten.”

 

“You only know you died a hundred times because I told you,” Sam grumbled and Dean could tell the time loop of infinite Tuesdays was still a sore spot for Sam.

 

“He's a dick, and a couple big rights don't make up for the shit he dumped on us,” Dean stated. “You were not alright after that damn mystery spot. I remember that much.”

 

“I'm not saying everything he did was right. And no he hasn't handed us all the answers on a silver platter, and don't think that doesn't bother me too.” Sam paused a thoughtful moment. “I don't think he CAN give a straight answer, it's not in his nature. He doesn't spill secrets of the world when it's just me and him either.”

 

“How can you even trust him then?” Dean asked. “I can't even see how you can 'love' him; as you so happily explained before.”

 

Sam took in a deep breath and worked on calming his temper. “Because, he was there when you weren't, and he tried. He tried so hard to get me to let go of you. Because he knew the angels would come back and get you, because that was Heaven's whole master plan.”

 

“He could have just TOLD you I was coming back,” Dean muttered. Because honestly, that would have fixed everything, wouldn't it have? “He could have said _'Sam, don't drink demon blood, Dean will be back in a few months.'_ ” Sam's lips pursed in a thin line, anger coming back on his face, but he looked as though he was thinking it over. “Yeah, SEE, if he'd just told you what was going on, none of this would have happened. But what does he do, he plays all these mind games on us, trying to force us to listen to him.”

 

“No,” Sam said so simply that Dean wasn't sure if Sam had really heard him.

 

“If that asshat knew what was going to happen...”

 

“You don't GET it, Dean,” Sam said louder. “He didn't tell me because he knew I never would have believed him.” Dean paused.

 

“What?” Dean asked.

 

“I wasn't going to believe him. If you're thinking that it all would have all been solved then you're wrong,” Sam said firmly, maybe even guiltily. “We weren't sleeping together because I trusted him. I do love him... but I didn't realize that until I realized Ruby had been lying to me. If he'd told me angels were bringing you back...” Sam shook his head. “I would have thought it was another one of his mind games. But they're not just mind games, okay. He was trying to make me see that I was going to get hurt, but I didn't CARE about anything else but getting you back.” Sam took a deep breath. “Back then, I probably would have the same stupid choices. I didn't know what the truth was until it was too late.” Dean folded his arms, frowning. “He knows us better than we give him credit for, Dean. And we can play the blame game or What-If until Armageddon, but the fact is that _**I**_ made the wrong call. I could have stayed with Loki or I could have gone with Ruby. And guess what I picked.” Dean set his jaw because Sam just looked like one beat dog with those eyes of his because he still put all the blame on himself instead of partly with the archangel outside the door. He didn't even blame Ruby, which would have been well justified.

 

“Well, knowing what you know now, would you have gone with Ruby?” Dean asked.

 

“Of course not,” Sam stated. “If I could change it, I would.” A bitter smile tugged on Sam's mouth. “If I'd listened to Gabriel back then, well...” Sam had the decency to be embarrassed at least. “You would have come back from Hell and tried to kill Gabriel again.” Dean imagined opening that apartment door in Indiana and finding Gabriel -or rather, the trickster at the time- in the same apartment with Sam. Yeah, Dean probably would have staked him again.

 

Dean sighed. “Fine, Gabriel didn't cause the whole damn Apocalypse. But that doesn't mean he should automatically tag along with us.”

 

“I want him near by as much as possible,” Sam argued evenly, finally sinking onto the single king sized bed that was in that room. “You have Cas and Miah.”

 

“Cas and Miah have to come.” Dean leaned against the corner of the dresser near the door. “We aren't renting at Bobby's or anything.”

 

“I barely get to see Gabriel as is,” Sam stated and locked eyes with Dean. “And if we don't find another way to get Lucifer into the cage...” Dean stared at Sam.

 

“What do you mean another way. We're getting the rings your boyfriend told us about,” Dean said slowly.

 

“Asking Lucifer nicely to go back into his cage isn't going to work, Dean.” Sam used a bitter amount of sardonic flare to his words. “Lucifer wants _me_. And I might have to...” Sam paused, staring up at him and dread filled Dean; remembering Sam in a white suit and talking to a rose bush. 

 

“No.” Dean stood. “There's no way you're saying yes to that fucker. For no reason...”

 

“Then we have to find another way to get Lucifer into the cage, because face it Dean, we don't have a back up plan. This is the ONLY plan anyone has thought of,” Sam said firmly.

 

“You're not saying _yes_ to Lucifer,” Dean hissed.

 

“Dean, believe me, it's the _last_ thing I want to do,” Sam hissed back, with much more meaning. “I broke it, and if it's the only way to fix it, I will beat him down and jump in the cage. If I can get in control for only a second, it will be enough.”

 

“It's suicide,” Dean argued.

 

“I know,” Sam said bitterly. “I don't want to do it to you or Gabriel... but it's the only plan so far. And you know it.”

 

Dean threw his hands up in the air, unable to believe he was hearing this from his own brother. He started pacing across the room, both of them silent for a moment. Dean hated that in the most primal logistics, he sort of understood the plan. But it was too much, Dean could not agree to it. He couldn't lose his brother again. Not to the freaking Devil.

 

“I'm open to any other ideas,” Sam muttered, trying to be helpful.

 

“We WILL find a way,” Dean stated firmly.

 

“Yeah, okay,” Sam agreed and there was a knock on the open door. Dean spun around, seeing Castiel standing there.

 

“Hey...” Dean said awkwardly, wondering if Castiel knew about Sam's horrible plan. “You're learning to knock. That's a plus.”

 

“You both seemed to be in a debate,” Castiel said simply, staying in the doorway. “I was not sure how else to bring attention to myself.”

 

“You got my attention,” Dean said, glad to have the break from the problem that seemed pretty far in the future. 

 

“Nemamiah seems to have stressed the dog out enough for one day.” Castiel turned to look back to the parking lot and Dean strode over to see past Castiel's shoulder. Gabriel was standing on the far grassy curb of the lot and was looking down at a dog that had his paws up in the air and was panting heavily while Nemamiah was patting his tummy. “Did you discuss movie plans?” Castiel asked finally and Dean grimaced, because that was why he'd gone to see Sam originally.

 

“Kinda,” Dean muttered and Castiel glanced back at them both.

 

Sam sighed and shook his head. “You guys go on your little family outing. Gabriel and I will hold down the motel rooms.” Sam leaned over to get his laptop from his bag.

 

“We'll see you in a couple hours then,” Castiel said before he looked to Dean and took his hand, pulling him from the motel room and towards the Impala.

 

“See ya, Sam,” Dean offered and Sam gave a wave, still looking somewhat agitated from the talk. 

 

“Arguing about Gabriel again?” Castiel asked. 

 

Dean sighed. “Yeah. Yeah, he's... making his points.” He poked Castiel in the side, heading towards the car. “You're not that alright with him either.” Castiel shook his head.

 

“I'm not in a position to protest Gabriel's stay,” Castiel said. “He has saved us twice. He's come to Sam's aid as well.”

 

“Doesn't mean I like him with us,” Dean muttered as he reached the Impala.

 

“And it doesn't mean I trust him,” Castiel informed him lowly before he looked to the very archangel that was only a short walk away. “Nemamiah, we're going to the movie theater.” Nemamiah stood up from the grass and Gabriel looked up as well, hands on his waist.

 

“Okay!” Nemamiah stood, “We're going to see a movie; on a big screen. With no commercials.” Gabriel smiled.

 

“Alright, then you can tell me all about it when you get back.” Gabriel told her and Nemamiah gave him a waist high hug before she ran over to the Impala.


	57. Date Night

Dean couldn't remember the last time he went to a movie under the R rating, but he had with Castiel and Nemamiah. It ended up being a movie about vikings and dragons and a happy story book ending where everyone ended up living together in harmony; which Dean thought was a bit corny. He had to admit, some parts were really cool, but Nemamiah thought the whole movie was the bee's knees.

 

“-and then the whole big dragon _exploded._ ” Nemamiah had been making a point to remind them about every scene in the movie as they had stopped at a diner for some dinner. She was bouncing up and down in the booth seat next to Castiel and the ex-angel himself was smiling lightly at her innocent tirade. Dean smiled too, watching her hands moving about, too distracted by her own story telling to eat her burger and fries.

 

“Best part,” Dean agreed, sucking his soda down a straw looking at his and Castiel's half eaten plates with a feeling of satisfaction. Not only for the good food, but for seeing Nemamiah happy and actually accomplishing a family night. The last time he had a night like this... well, it had to be years ago, maybe when his mom was still pregnant with Sam. John must have raked in some money or something and taken them all for dinner, but the details were hazy, only remembering the wood paneling on the table and maybe he'd had crayons to work with. Again, it was hazy, but he swore he had seen his mom and dad actually smiling at one another. It was one of those things he always tried to hang on to as he got older.

 

Nemamiah gave a big sigh, finally focusing in on her fries. “I'm so glad nobody died except the big dragon.”

 

“Happy endings are good like that,” Dean said idly, watching Nemamiah still processing through all her emotions from the film. He remembered those simple thoughts. Good was good, bad was bad, and dad was a super hero; that was all Dean had to know when he was younger.

 

“The relationship between dragons and vikings was not incredibly accurate historically. But for the story, it was a pleasant tale,” Castiel finally spoke since Nemamiah seemed complete with here retelling of the whole movie. 

 

“Right, dragons,” Dean smiled, the though was pretty far out there. Demons, angels, ghosts; sure, Dean had seen them. But he'd never heard of any real evidence on dragons.

 

“Are dragons real?” Nemamiah asked, her voice lightly awed and she looked to Castiel curiously. 

 

“They are,” Castiel confirmed. “But they are not mild mannered as they were in your movie.” Castiel munched steadily on his fries and Dean felt maybe he shouldn't be so surprised, but he was.

 

“Great, so dragons are roaming the earth too?” Dean groaned, more annoyed than amazed. “What next? Mermaids?” He wondered how to kill them briefly.

 

“Well, dragons have been vanquished as far as Heaven knows,” Castiel confirmed, eyes rolling upwards in thought. “Though I'm wary of Heaven's accuracy now. But if they have not been a concern in the past I would not put too much worry into their existence.” Nemamiah blinked wide eyed at Castiel.

 

“Wow, dragons,” she whispered.

 

“Don't go thinking you're going to pop out and make friends with dragons, squirt.” Dean was sure that Nemamiah was quite capable of flying off, and he sort of wish he had an angel leash after that scare at Bobby's.

 

“I wasn't,” Nemamiah said quickly, looking back to her food, seeming to finally find her hunger again as she took a large bite of her burger.

 

“Yeah, I'm sure.” Dean shook his head, knowing how adventurous kids could be. 

 

Nemamiah was pretty focused on stuffing her face when Dean felt the bump of another leg against his. He looked at Castiel, who was resting his jaw in his hand and his warm blue gaze rested on Dean. It was casual contact but it was warming that Castiel sought it. Dean gave him a smile, moving his feet so there was easier shin-to-shin contact. Dean wasn't much of a hand holder in public; and Castiel didn't seem to be either. Even during the movie wandering fingers only checked occasionally for the other, usually at the most boring parts of the movie. The casual touch was nice; affirming that the contact was still wanted. It brought a lot of mushy -and sometimes gooey- feelings to the surface for Dean; because it felt right. Taking his lover and little girl to dinner and a movie felt good. Feeling like he had a normal family for a night felt pretty damn close to what he wanted. And annoying butterflies bumped around in his belly when Castiel returned the smile with his own.

 

They eventually got home with left overs in a bag and Nemamiah still seemed charged with energy. Dean was digging out his hotel key when it occurred to him that Sam and Gabriel's light was on. They did have separate rooms now and he wanted to take advantage of it.

 

“Hey, Miah. You up to visit your Uncle Sam for a bit?” Dean asked and Nemamiah blinked at him.

 

“Yes,” she decided. “I have to tell Uncle Gabriel about the movie.”

 

Castiel gave a curious look at first, but he did not protest when Dean knocked on the door and a few moments later Dean heard the locks slide open and Sam was standing there in a pair of comfortable jeans and a t-shirt.

 

“I'm not interrupting anything, am I?” Dean said cautiously.

 

“Nothing big, why?” Sam quirked an eye brow.

 

“Do you mind watching Miah for a bit?” Dean asked and Sam looked mildly surprised. “Just for a couple hours.” Dean nodded to his own motel room door, hoping Sam would get the hint. Dean and Castiel had run off to have sex several times, but having sex in Baby and spending time in a bed were very different. Tonight Dean wasn't feeling the quickie-vibe. Sam eyed Dean, looking disgruntled; probably because of the argument they had earlier. Dean gave his brother a slight pleading look, because Sam had to know why he was asking.

 

Sam took a breath and probably withheld a large sigh. “Yeah, sure.” He looked to the little girl. “Come on in, Miah.” Nemamiah grinned and ran in past Sam. Sam pointed a finger at Dean and mouthed a clear 'You owe me' before closing the door after them. Dean heard the dog yip a couple times before he looked at Castiel. Castiel only looked a little concerned about Nemamiah being away, but he looked up when Dean wrapped his arm around Castiel's back.

 

“Y'know, we haven't had any time to ourselves.” Dean flashed his key and opened their apartment door.

 

“We've been otherwise occupied,” Castiel said and he stepped into the room, immediately starting to shed his trench coat. Dean shut the door after them with a soft click and didn't even bother turning on the lights. The dimmed light from the two shaded windows was enough to see by. Dean took a couple steps to close the distance between them, feeling Castiel's heat against his hands. He helped slide the coat from Castiel's arms and tossed it in the general area of the table and chairs. 

 

“Let's take it slow.” Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel's waist as Castiel leaned into him. “We got the whole place to ourselves.” Dean's hands momentarily felt their way to Castiel's belly before moving on downwards. He did occasionally think there was going to be another mound of flesh; sometimes he wished that he'd taken more opportunities to explore it before Castiel had split.

 

Castiel's hands wrapped around Dean's and dragged them back up to rest on his belly as he looked at Dean over his shoulder. “Do you miss me being in severance?” Dean's hands lingered where Castiel placed them on his t-shirt and he shrugged. He didn't want to make a big deal out of it.

 

“Only sometimes,” Dean said, but he did commonly wish he could do it again; maybe a better way? The right way? Was there a right way to get an angel pregnant? Probably not, but he did feel somewhat gypped about the lack of time they had together. Castiel looked down at their hands and said nothing for the longest moment. Dean kissed Castiel's nape softly. “What's up?” Castiel's thumbs smoothed over Dean's knuckles.

 

“I suppose... I feel regret,” Castiel said slowly.

 

“What about?” Dean raised his brow.

 

“If I... had taken a female vessel, I could have...” Castiel waved his hand once, as though even he -Castiel of proper English and big vocabulary- was lost for words for a bit. “I would have a possibility to bare you more offspring in the future.” Dean pressed his mouth against Castiel's skin, remembering for a moment that was why Anna had picked a woman to be her (his?) vessel. It was a little difficult to imagine Castiel as... well no, it wasn't that hard to imagine Castiel as a woman. It definitely would have had perks.

 

“You... could have?” Dean asked, cautiously curious. Castiel nodded and Dean hesitated, because he couldn't really see Castiel's face at his current angle. “Why didn't you? If you don't mind me asking.”

 

Castiel gave a mixed uncomfortable laugh and sigh. “It was actually to prevent something like this.” Castiel squeezed Dean's hand in his, pressing it to his chest warmly. “It was very well documented that you are a seeker of the flesh and that you lust after women.” Dean shrugged, there was no denying that one. “Logically, there shouldn't have been... this.” Castiel turned his head and Dean looked up to meet Castiel's eye. Castiel looked solemn; more so than usual.

 

“I'm not one for doing things logically.” Dean shrugged and squeezed Castiel's hand back. How was he supposed to know he was going to get wrapped up with an angel because of the apocalypse? Dean was still not into checking out guys; not regularly at least. But Castiel was special. He'd been pregnant for one thing. But even after that, he still wanted to touch Castiel; be touched by Castiel. 

 

“No, you're not.” Castiel's face relaxed and a quiet smile graced his lips. Considering how much Dean had twisted Heaven's apocalypse plan, Dean knew he'd thrown a decent sized wrench into Michael's gears, and that in itself felt pretty good. Castiel turned in Dean's arms and kissed him, making Dean smile. Their kiss deepened and Dean sat on the bed, drawing Castiel's knees up to straddle his waist. They wrapped up in each other warmly before a thought occurred to Dean.

 

“Hey, does that mean you've been thinking about me before you got a body?” Dean asked curiously and Castiel blinked owlishly at him.

 

“I've always put my faith in you, Dean. Long before I met you.” Castiel gave him a softer, endearing look and a small kiss. “The Righteous Man.” Dean sort of hated the title and all the shit that went with it. But Castiel said it in a way, as though Dean was an answered prayer... Dean's heart hammered in his chest, feeling a bit choked up. 

 

“Sure you made the right call?” Dean asked and Castiel closed his eyes resting his cheek against Dean's, breathing out softly, confidently.

 

“Yes,” Castiel affirmed before his arms snaked around Dean's neck. Dean's chest swelled and he kissed Castiel deeply. He pulled Castiel down to the sheets, intending to show Castiel just how much he appreciated hearing that. 

 

-

 

Dean slid his hand up Castiel's warm thigh as Castiel curled into Dean's chest, letting out a content sigh. 

 

“Feel good?” Dean smiled, enjoying Castiel's weight on his chest.

 

“I thought my actions earlier would tell you that,” Castiel murmured and his nose pressed into the side of Dean's neck, leaving a kiss against his skin.

 

“Still like to hear it.” Dean grinned and Castiel hummed, low and tired.

 

“The sensations you draw from my body are like none that are in Heaven,” Castiel crooned and Dean grinned.

 

“Proof that Heaven doesn't know everything.” Dean rubbed Castiel's back and Castiel pushed himself up, placing a kiss on Dean's lips. Dean really liked to see Castiel so relaxed.

 

“I knew duty and family,” Castiel told him, his fingers combing through Dean's hair, “And this is very different. It's more.”

 

“So, you're happy? Being here?” Dean asked, perhaps just to make sure Castiel's answer from before wasn't a pleasure educed hallucination. Castiel did follow where ever Dean went -without question- and Dean wasn't sure if he deserved that much trust. Castiel didn't answer right away and his brow crinkled in thought. Dean squeezed Castiel's thigh. “You know, with me? Don't think too hard on it.” It still unnerved him when Castiel dug too deep with his answers.

 

“I am happy with you.” Castiel relaxed, the answer came easier than the first.

 

“Good.” Dean let out a breath. “Me too.” Castiel smiled, which was becoming more common in moments like this and drew Dean into a loving kiss; the kind that was the whipped cream on the slice of apple pie. It was sweet and warm and Dean murmured incoherent words against Castiel's lips before drawing him a little deeper for a better taste.

 

“Mm?” Castiel hummed, sounding tired, but curious as their lips broke away.

 

“ _'Hm',_ what?” Dean smiled at the sleep eyes around Castiel's eyes.

 

“You muttered something.” Castiel ran his thumb lazily down Dean's jaw.

 

“ _'Me too'_?”

 

“No, after that.”

 

Dean thought back though the pleasured haze. His lips started to mouth it out and he paused as he remembered the words that had gone through his head. Dean hesitated for a moment, but he repeated them just the same. “Love you.” His mind reeled as he actually said it. Maybe because of the backlash with Cassie. Or maybe just because it was the meaning that was so vulnerable in itself. Either way, Dean's heart was playing ping-pong with his adam's apple.

 

But Castiel just inclined his head, the picturesque scene of angelic peace and he gently pet Dean's neck; as though this was the most natural conversion in the world. “I love you, Dean.” Castiel's fingers slid down Dean's jaw and his eyes followed their movements. “Far too much for my own good.” Dean found himself smiling.

 

“Yeah, I think I know the feeling.” Dean's hand made another lap up Castiel's spine, his belly clenching warmly. He did love Castiel and the only thing he really had to worry about was to make it through the apocalypse; so they could enjoy it longer.


	58. Sleeping In Your Own Bed

Sam and Dean found another case and their lives fell into a strange parody of hunting that they used to know. The rides were certainly filled with more talking. Gabriel, for one, never seemed to shut his trap, nor did he seem to understand the concept of silence. But Nemamiah also became more talkative, so it wasn't a completely pointless bunch of chatter. It had been years since anything like “I spy” had been brought into the Impala. It wasn't as annoying with Gabriel there after a couple trips together, but he still had his moments. Road trips were still long though and they could easily tire them all out like a good hunt could.

“Hey, looks like someone conked out.” Dean sat in their motel room chair as he looked over at Nemamiah. She had sprawled out on her belly on the bed nearest to the TV. Her eyes were closed and her wings acted as a down blanket over her arms. Castiel agreed with a soft hum and stood up, clicking the power button on the small TV. Nemamiah continued to breath evenly and Castiel turned to her, brushing down a few stray feathers. She seemed perpetually losing tiny fuzzy feathers. Dean stretched his arms up and stood, checking the clock at 11:45. “Might as well hit the hay.”

“Do you think we'll finish the case tomorrow?” Castiel asked as he walked quietly to the other side of the bed.

“Probably. We'll pack in the morning anyway for a quick get away.” Dean shrugged his jacket off and watched Castiel pull back the covers on the bed Nemamiah was in. Dean glanced at the equally sized queen bed only a couple feet away that had been ignored several times before.

“Hey, the other bed is free.” Dean tapped Castiel's shoulder and Castiel paused.

“Nemamiah fell asleep in this one,” Castiel said and Dean rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, but she can have her own bed for the night.” Dean had been trying to get Nemamiah to sleep in her own bed since Sam and Gabriel had their own room. So far no luck since she always wiggled her way between them and said no every time Dean asked her if she'd like to sleep in her own bed.

Castiel had that quiet, thin lipped expression he got when ever he had to leave Nemamaiah for a time. Dean sighed deeply.

“She'll be like 5 feet away.” Dean tugged Castiel to the other bed by the are. “She's not even in another room.”

Castiel sat on the empty bed and eyed the distance. “9 feet, at least.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Look, she's asleep, why bug her? Sam and I got our own beds when we were kids.”

“I understand you and Sam were raised as independent sleepers,” Castiel said. “I was not. Nemamiah was not.”

Dean considered Castiel's point and the weariness in his face. Dean hadn't really thought about Castiel's sleeping arrangements; not since he'd dragged the fallen, pregnant angel into bed for some real sleep. It just sort of stayed like that.

“Well Miah deserves the chance to have her own bed. Don't you think?” Dean retaliated. Castiel glanced at Nemamiah, the silent frown growing on his face.

“If she wants her own space to sleep, I would not stop her,” Castiel said with some difficulty.

“Well she's asleep now,” Dean prompted and turned out the lamp light. “Might as well let her sleep in her own bed.” Dean made his way to the middle of the bed and pulled Castiel back into him. “You act a bit clingy.”

“I'm entitled to be,” Castiel half argued, “I've never known another angel to keep their child; Gabriel excluded.” Dean remembered a lot of nights where he'd watched Castiel pet his own full belly, in a peaceful expression on his face. Dean could only imagine what had been running through Castiel's head at the time. 

“Just calling it how it looks,” Dean said, curling his arms around Castiel's waist and incidentally his hands rested on Castiel's belly. Castiel looked at Nemamiah's form on the other bed and Dean gave him a comforting squeeze. “Just give it one night, huh?” Castiel sighed but nodded.

“One night,” Castiel agreed and sank into Dean's embrace. Dean breathed into Castiel's shoulder. He liked holding Castiel in his arms. He had gotten comfortable with having her sleeping between them. But he liked having Castiel was warm and curled up to him; all to himself for the night. He really wanted to make it a habit. Castiel shifted around a bit, but in a short time he settled and his hand slid over Dean's. Dean closed his eyes, falling asleep with Castiel's warmth against him.

-

Dean awoke from movement on the bed; an extra movement that was not him or Castiel. Dean's hand reflexively gripped the knife under his pillow but he recognized the rustling feathers and weight a split second later.

“Miah?” Dean grumbled as she made herself at home between him and Castiel's warmth. Castiel seemed to be half awake as well but he said nothing. He only invited Nemamiah in to be wrapped up in his arms and they both hummed content sounds. “You were sleeping in the other bed.”

“I was cold,” she murmured tiredly, settling down into Castiel's hug.

“You had blankets,” Dean muttered.

Nemamiah's voice went softer. “I was scared.”

Dean halted himself from arguing. He remembered Sam saying the same thing to their dad and John gave Sam a .45 and told him to go back to his own bed. Dean wasn't exactly sure how his dad had done that. He couldn't find enough annoyance, even when he was having a good cuddle with Castiel, to tell a kid that sounded like that to go back to bed. Dean let out a deep breath.

“What are you scared of, short stack?” Dean asked.

“I dunno,” she murmured. “I woke up because of a noise, I think.” She pulled the covers under her chin, snuggling into their warm bed. “I feel better now.”

Dean was sure he was supposed to the the stubborn hard ass about her sleeping in her own bed, especially when there wasn't even anything that really scared her. But he just wrapped his arm around her and Castiel. “Okay. Okay. Just go back to sleep. Your father and I are watching out for ya.” Nemamiah gave a tired smile and let out a long yawn before settling down to sleep. Dean felt a responsive squeeze on his arm from Castiel in silent gratitude. Dean squeezed Castiel's arm back and smiled a little. Nah, it really wasn't worth it to force Nemamiah back to her own bed.


	59. Fire Wall

Gabriel flexed his hands, really looking at them for the first time in several years. He was not used to being limited to a physical form; but to recuperate, he had to dull down his grace uses to the minimum for healing and preserving his vessel. He found the same lines and dots he did when he first commandeered his perfect vessel. But even then, there was never the physical rules that he had to follow. The ones that humans were limited to; like gravity and using the remote to change the channel. He felt every flex of grace, sore like healing muscle. He'd been earthbound for a long time though, so it wasn't the first time he'd limited himself. He'd acted human before. He had learned quirks over the years; that movement should be more fluid rather than pulled by a puppet master. But now he wasn't practicing. He couldn't retired for the day and summon a pile of goodies and entertainment from thin air. Sitting in the current Nesting-pair motel room, it was the real trial of all he'd learned over 10 thousand years. 

 

So it must have been amusing to Nemamiah, who sat on the other bed, watching Gabriel move his hand further and closer to his face. Because she was barely two months in this world and had never been without the advantage of grace. 

 

“Is something wrong with your hand, Uncle Gabriel?” Nemamiah asked curiously. Gabriel smiled a little.

 

“No, just feeling my way about.” Gabriel sat up on the other bed and looked over to Castiel, who was folding the freshly laundered clothes at the small table. Gabriel put his hand down, glancing at the TV, which was off. It was off because Nemamiah had been reading a book -Sherlock Holmes, Gabriel believed- and she was a bit more in control of the light frequencies of the room at the moment. She was the only one with the most grace out of the room, which was the most interesting irony of the night. “Kind of surprised your dad hasn't gone crazy without grace, actually.” Nemamiah blinked and looked at Castiel, who only gave them a fleeting glance. Castiel was less happy with Gabriel's appearance than Sam had predicted before, Gabriel determined. But it wasn't the verbal sort of anger. It was a very good cold shoulder if nothing else.

 

“I'm more than capable to function without my grace,” Castiel said astutely, looking solely at his task. Gabriel had to mentally laugh at the way Castiel had grown since losing his grace. Being on earth changed every rule that was in Heaven. Most angels would never dare show disrespect to an archangel or turn their back on one. Castiel was catching up with the humans he was surrounded by quicker than Gabriel had ever expected. It was a bit inspiring and refreshing to Gabriel.

 

“So I see,” Gabriel agreed heartily, crossing his legs on the bed. “Folding laundry, all domestic-like.” Castiel just sighed stiffly and continued, ignoring Gabriel. Sam and Dean were finishing up a meager salt and burn and there was at least 2 duffel-bags worth of dirty clothes that Castiel and Nemamiah had done at the local laundry mat. Gabriel had been so bored in his motel room that he'd followed and observed. The machines were simple and there were pictures to follow so none of them had any great mishaps.

 

“Domesticity comes with some of the duties, yes,” Castiel said with a quiet reserve that usually went with his arguments with Dean. “Everything has its own importance.”

 

“I'm not coming down on you for it.” Gabriel shrugged. “But you know, if you had grace, it wouldn't have taken 2 hours of waiting and two walks down the block.” Castiel paused, looking at Nemamiah's clean and yet slightly wrinkled t-shirt in his hands. “Insta-clean is just one of those conveniences you get used to.”

 

“What's insta-clean?” Nemamiah asked. Gabriel raised a brow and remembered Nemamiah was limited on angel knowledge.

 

“Insta-clean, or as they say in Heaven, pristine.” Gabriel waved his hand, indicating it's vast meaning for an angel. It kept a vessel clean, it purified demonic entities to dust. It could remove viruses from a human and make them healthy. It was basic and always used. Tapping into it was like standing on the basic building block of being an angel.

 

“Purification,” Castiel argued. “They call it purification. Pristine is the state it's in after it is purified.” Gabriel rolled his eyes, waving his hand.

 

“Alright, be all technical,” Gabriel said. “You haven't taught her that?” Nemamiah looked between them curiously, blinking and taking in every hinted angelic power in their words. Gabriel could tell, she was a free bird, only going off of instinct and no formal training. Gabriel could imagine Raphael's wrath over an uncouth (i.e. untrained) angel. Castiel gave a huff of frustration.

 

“No, I'm unable to,” Castiel said with some obvious frustration with his own limitations. Gabriel didn't blame him because he was already annoyed with it; it had only been two weeks since last seeing Lucifer. It was cramped in the Impala while traveling together, but at least they were getting separate motel rooms now. Being able to unwind with Sam and Max at the end of the day made the next much more bearable. 

 

“I could teach her,” Gabriel offered, giving the curious girl a smile. “It's pretty damn useful in a pinch.” 

 

“I'd rather you didn't,” Castiel said immediately, turning towards the archangel finally. It was good because Gabriel had started to feel ignored. “Teaching her is a privilege for Dean and I.” Gabriel nodded slowly. That was the reaction he was expecting.

 

“I heard you're having trouble with that,” Gabriel said. “Big migraines and trouble passing down knowledge. It's quite a disadvantage if she isn't taught. If you're unable to teach her, how do you think she'll survive?” Castiel had a sour look upon his face. His mouth was pursed tight, eyes fixated on Gabriel. It wasn't hard to needle Castiel. Just point out where he was limited and what he was lacking and you had an angry ex-angel. Gabriel liked riling people up. It got under one's skin and brought out the person under the shields.

 

“You are an archangel who has only used up his grace,” Castiel said stiffly. “The last of my grace went to my child and if that is all I can give her, then I will just have to utilize another way of defense and livability. It is my business how I want to raise Nemamiah and I don't want you teaching her what I can not.” Gabriel raised his brows.

 

“You don't trust me,” Gabriel concluded, though he'd already known it for a while. Not that he blamed Castiel. Castiel was smart and tactical like that.

 

“Simply put, no.” Castiel loosened his grip on the shirt he'd been stretching in his hands. “You are important to Sam, you have informed us about the rings, and you rescued us all from the hotel days ago. But you ran from Heaven, killed Dean several times-”

 

“I brought him back.” Gabriel couldn't believe he was getting lectured for that still.

 

“-You put us through a deadly and humiliating television land, and have put forth little information or effort to stop Michael or Lucifer.” Castiel stared at Gabriel bitterly and Gabriel frowned. Gabriel nearly died and Castiel was saying he hadn't thrown them a bone? It had been a long time since Gabriel felt like smiting a smart mouthed angel who talked rudely to an archangel.

 

But this was not Heaven, Castiel was fallen and Gabriel was an injured archangel. Gabriel couldn't help it, he smiled tightly.

 

“You are the gutsiest angel I've ever seen,” Gabriel commented.

 

“I'm... not an angel any more,” Castiel said lowly. “I'm just human.”

 

“Yeah.” Gabriel nodded and stood up from the bed. “And I think that's what makes the difference. Humans.” Gabriel flexed his fingers. He didn't need much grace to tap into someone else. Castiel was aware that Gabriel had grace and he stood straighter, eyes flickering to the weapons that were about the room. The table, the bags. Nemamiah watched with a fascination through out the whole conversation. She sat up on the bed, book forgotten. She hadn't glanced at her book since the conversation started. “Do you want me to get rid of that headache you get when you try to teach her?” Castiel's frown tightened, giving Gabriel a confused look. “You do know why you're having the headaches, right?”

 

“Because I'm graceless,” Castiel concluded.

 

“Because you've been blocked off,” Gabriel corrected. “No matter how much you rest or how much grace you have, you're not going to be able to teach her. I bet either Michael or Raphael put some walls in your head that you didn't even know about.” Castiel eyed Gabriel for a long moment.

 

“You want me to allow you into my head.” Castiel's mistrust was obvious.

 

“I'm asking for permission to give you some help.” Gabriel shrugged. “I don't need anything in your head, and I don't have to help, and you know it.” Castiel did know it an he showed it with a silent nod. 

 

“Why do you want to help now?” Castiel asked. Gabriel sighed.

 

“I can't exactly be in witness protection anymore, can I?” Gabriel asked, quirking a brow. “I threw that in at the hotel. Kali knows, and she doesn't keep those kinds of secrets. And...” Gabriel gave a half glance to Nemamiah, who reminded him so much of Hel. Bright, resilient, and strong. “I have kids. I know you have to teach them everything so they can survive in a world that thinks they're abominations or monsters. You got to give them everything so they have the best chance of making it.” He looked back to Castiel. “And it does feel good, knowing that you taught them instead of someone else.” Castiel looked at Nemamiah as well, his gaze softening. Castiel took a deep breath and looked back to Gabriel. Gabriel opened his arms, giving Castiel a, 'come on' expression. “I'm stable enough to unblock a few head chambers. 2 minutes, tops.” Castiel took a deep breath and slowly nodded.

 

“For Nemamiah's sake... alright,” Castiel said and Gabriel stepped closer. “Don't touch anything else.”

 

“Please.” Gabriel gave Castiel what he thought was a reassuring thought. “Sam would never sleep with me again if I give Dean grief about his lover.” Castiel gave him a unamused stare. “This might sting a bit.” His lifted his hand but Castiel stepped back, raising an inquiring finger.

 

“You can guarantee that this will allow me to teach her?” Castiel asked.

 

“Absolutely,” Gabriel said easily. “There's no reason for you to be having trouble with passing on knowledge; unless another angel has already toyed with your brain.” Castiel went quiet, as though thinking over his existence and trying to remember all the times when he'd been altered by another angel.

 

“The last time I was given knowledge was during basic training,” Castiel informed him and Gabriel raised a brow.

 

“And your severance, obviously.” Gabriel pointed to Nemamiah, who was watching curiously. She was the most obvious evidence that another angel had been in Castiel's brain within the past 2 years. Castiel blinked slowly, as though confused.

 

“I was informed from a brother after Dean was rescued that I would go through severance,” Castiel said. Gabriel raised a brow.

 

“Flipping the severance switch requires being touched by an archangel.” Gabriel knew those metaphysics couldn't have changed while he was on earth. Castiel now looked a mix of concerned and confused. “Look, I'll just have to show you.” Gabriel touched Castiel's temple with his fingers, his consciousness slipping into Castiel's mind. 

 

Diving into Castiel's head was a bit like diving into the sea. It was dark and open, like an endless void. Gabriel didn't waste a moment. He found the blockage in memory. It wasn't hard to find because it lit up like an underwater volcano. Gabriel inched his ethereal mind to remove it, but then pulled back for a split second, being burned with a lick of warning flames. That was Michael's signature; fire. Gabriel braced himself, turning his focus on the barrier. Delaying its removal wouldn't help at this point, even though it was much more formidable than Gabriel had first anticipated. With the lack of grace, it wasn't going to be a simple clearing to access the memories, but he'd already told Castiel he could get rid of it so he bared his teeth and started his focus on removing the burning energy.

 

There were signs of it happening in the physical world; mostly in the form of Castiel's pained noise and his body going rigid. Gabriel grasped his arm to keep him steady, keeping his other hand tightly clasped to Castiel's head. Michael's defenses were a bit on the violent side, so it was not easily tossed away. It bubbled and frothed as Gabriel worked on extinguishing it's existence. It was like he had a shovel to move that mountain of lava. Poking at it only enticed the defensive block to lash back.

 

“Father?” Nemamiah stood, concerned about Castiel's gasp of pain.

 

“Michael doesn't kid around with those defenses,” Gabriel muttered and Castiel's eyes were shut tight, braced against the backlash of the removal as well. Castiel's legs crumpled under him within moments, but Gabriel caught Castiel's weight and eased him down to the floor onto his back. Gabriel hastened the job, his grace being eaten up by the fire, causing his own skin to break out with heat. 

 

Nemamiah fluttered over to them, looking frantic, but not knowing what to do. Castiel was curling onto his side and Gabriel was running thin on usable grace. Gabriel's eyes flickered up to Nemamiah, remembering her untapped well of energy. Gabriel took her hand, gaining her attention. 

 

“You're going to have to help lend some of your grace,” he told her and she looked startled, but nodded.

 

“Okay,” she agreed. “Just stop him from hurting.” With the invitation to her energy, he used it to continue clearing the heat. He was sure she wasn't expecting the zap of it being used, but she was stable and with the youthful grace, the rest of Michael's lava was stomped out. 

 

Gabriel pulled back from them both as soon as it was done, his consciousness settling back in one body. But pulling back from Nemamiah's grace gave him the sensation of being without air. His head swirled in dark wispy smoke and he stumbled back to his feet, holding his head. His mind was already chiding him, _'you should have waited. You should have waited; ambitious show off'_.

 

“Okay, I'm ready to get off the roller coaster now,” Gabriel muttered into his hands. Slowly, the whirlwind's ash settled and his feet steadied him with less effort. He felt like he could open his eyes without getting dizzy and throwing up. But there was a throb in his head that knocked at his skull every half a second and he realized he'd been licked by the fire more than he'd first thought he'd been. When he did open his blurry vision he took a deep breath and saw the motel door had just opened.

 

Oh yes, perfect Winchester timing because Dean was in the doorway.

 

It was probably a bad looking scene. Castiel was unconscious on the floor, skin broken out from a fevered sweat. But at least he wasn't trying to curl into a ball from pain anymore. Nemamiah looked winded and was kneeling next to her father, drained from the energy zap. She had one of Castiel's hands in hers and was trying to rouse him back to consciousness. Gabriel was standing near them, just coming to terms with his pounding headache. He wasn't exactly up to forming words to explain the situation. 

 

“Cas?” Dean moved in fast. He dropped what ever he'd had in his hands and nearly hit the ground in a skid as he knelt next to Castiel. “What the hell happened?” He leaned over Castiel, holding his face in his hands to see if Castiel was conscious. Which, at the moment, he was not.

 

“Uncle Gabriel was fixing father's head,” Nemamiah said, though she looked more worried than explanatory and Dean seemed to only hear Gabriel's name. Dean stood and he grabbed hold of Gabriel's shirt, dragging Gabriel into an intimidating closeness before Gabriel had much time to gather his wits.

 

“What the fuck did you do to him!?” Dean demanded, only knowing that Castiel was down, recovering from some mind tampering, and Gabriel had apparently caused it.

 

“Dean, what the hell?!” Sam stood startled in the doorway, finding the whole scene when he walked in only a few steps later.

 

“That's what I wanna know!” Dean yelled in Gabriel's face and Gabriel was just not going to take Dean man-handling him again. “What the fuck did you do to Cas?” Gabriel took Dean's wrist at his shirt and a second later, Dean hit the floor on his ass next to Castiel. Gabriel was still stronger than Dean, and right then, Gabriel had a spitting headache and didn't deserve to be yelled at for clearing Michael's mind block.

 

“Cool it, Dean,” Gabriel advised him, holding his head from the throbbing. He couldn't even enjoy tossing Dean onto his ass with the pain in his head. “I was helping out. He's fine but I've got a headache the size of Texas and I'm going to go lie down.” He stepped over Dean and passed Sam out the door, using the door frame to steady his turn to his and Sam's motel room. Sam gave him a look that was so very blatantly 'What the fuck' and he gestured to Castiel.

 

“Gabriel, it might help if you explain what happened?” Sam half-whispered, trying to convey a cooperation between everyone. But Gabriel just was not ready to put up with Dean's attitude because obviously anything Gabriel had to say would be responded to with hostility. And Gabriel really didn't want to keel over in front of Dean of all people.

 

“I helped. I'm going to our room.” Gabriel walked out and flicked his door card out of his pocket. “Castiel won't be out long. You ask him.” Gabriel shut the door behind him and flopped down on the nearest bed. The pounding headache intensified as he hit the bed. What little grace he had left was pumping hard to quell the mental burns Michael's wall had caused him. He knew he should have waited. He wasn't sure why he'd been so eager to show Castiel what was wrong. Probably because he was sentimental to Castiel's determination to be a good father.

 

Gabriel held his hands over his eyes because the light in the room made the migraine worse. He felt Max hop up on the bed to see what was going on, feeling a wet nose on his arm and a huff for attention; trying to find out why Gabriel was lying down. If Gabriel was human he would have liked to sleep off the pain, but he could only bite his tongue and wait for the searing sensation to dull as his grace started to painstakingly start to regenerate and heal; again. Gabriel chuckled bitterly at the pain, his hand automatically moving to rub Max's head so the dog didn't worry about him. It had been a while since he'd felt Michael's fire. Still burned like a bitch.


	60. Cleared Blockage

Sam was torn between following Gabriel and checking in on Castiel. But since Castiel was the one that was unconscious, Sam walked over to Nemamiah, who was kneeling next to Castiel and her wings were giving nervous flaps, as though they didn't know what to do with themselves as she held one of Castiel's hands in hers. Dean was just as worried, but he damn well showed it differently.

 

“Cas. Damn it, Cas.” Dean knelt next to Castiel and gripped his shoulders, giving him firm shakes, “Wake up.”

 

“Easy, Dean,” Sam cautioned as he patted Nemamiah's back. “Gabriel said he'd be okay.”

 

“Fuck Gabriel!” Dean snapped and Sam frowned. Sam trusted that Gabriel wouldn't do anything to really hurt Castiel, but obviously Dean thought otherwise. Castiel groaned then and Dean looked down at him, his grip relaxing on Castiel's shoulders. “Cas, baby, you okay?” Sam watched, feeling odd that Dean could be so venomous the first second and then be so tender the next. Castiel's hand gripped Dean's arm and Dean cradled Castiel's cheek in his palm as Castiel's eyes fluttered jerkily, as though still wading his way to consciousness.

 

“Dean,” Castiel said, voice pained, but recognition was there and Dean's mouth broke out into a relieved smile.

 

“Hey, you alright?” Dean asked and Castiel's hand gripped Nemamiah's as well when the young girl leaned closer, her eyes wide. “Gabriel was doing something.”

 

“It was bright.” Castiel was less pained, sounding more tired than anything else, relaxing on the hard, thinly carpeted floor. “And hot.”

 

“Easy. Easy. I just wanna know if you're okay. Nothing's missing or out of order, right?” Dean gripped Castiel's tense hand with his own steady one as he was moving to sit up.

 

“No,” Castiel said. Dean tried to urge him to relax, but despite Castiel's shaky body, he sat up. “I remember.” He looked at Dean, eyes opening wide and Sam had never seen fear on Castiel before; and he didn't like it. “I remember Michael.” Dean brows lowered in concern and Castiel pushed himself up to his feet. Dean stood with him, hands steadying Castiel and trying to get him to the bed to sit but Castiel didn't seem to want to. He seemed half dazed and in a strong memory that he was just realizing again.

 

“Father?” Nemamiah asked meekly and Sam didn't blame her. Castiel was not acting himself. But at Nemamiah's voice Castiel seemed more aware of his surroundings and he allowed Dean to seat him on the edge of the bed. Castiel gathered Nemamiah in his arms and hugged her in his lap. Sam remembered the clingy motions from after Castiel was first awake enough at Bobby's to hug her. Sam dug out a bottle of water and twisted off the cap before offering it to Castiel.

 

“Here, drink something,” Sam said since Dean was just looming over him like a guard dog. Castiel took the bottle with little thought and downed most of it before he breathed again. At least he looked more alert to the world now.

 

“What do you remember about Michael?” Dean asked, actually giving Castiel time to process his own thoughts, which Sam was happy to see. Nemamiah sat in Castiel's arms, her arms wrapped around him in a tight hug. She looked tired, but that could have been because she was so worried.

 

Castiel took deep breaths as he spoke. “I remember when he put me into severance.” He closed his eyes, resting his cheek against Nemamiah's dark hair. “I remember his praise for rescuing the Righteous Man; his orders, to guide the Righteous Man; my prize,” he squeezed Nemamiah tighter, “to reproduce and have my child survive in the new world. And...” His eyes opened, looking up at Dean. “And then he buried it all under fire.” 

 

“He buried it?” Dean asked.

 

“You mean he made you forget?” Sam asked, because he remembered Gabriel had been talking about Michael turning on and off angels' ability to breed and playing with their memories as he pleased. Castiel nodded simply; pressing his mouth against his daughter's hair. Dean gently started to rub Castiel's back.

 

“Father, are you okay?” Nemamiah asked gently. Castiel was quiet a moment, as though assessing himself.

 

“No,” he finally answered with his exhaustion showing as he slowed down. “But I think I will feel better if Gabriel managed to accomplish his task.”

 

“What was he doing?” Dean asked with a frown.

 

“Trying to unblock the knowledge I can pass on to Nemamiah.” Castiel looked down at his daughter and brushed his fingers through her hair.

 

“... Do you think it worked?” Dean asked, sounding less venomous. Castiel and Nemamiah gave each other curious looks.

 

“There is one way to be sure,” Castiel said, traces of hope in his voice. 

 

“I don't want you to get another headache, father.” Nemamiah said with a whimper.

 

“Comparatively, the pain would be minimal to what I just experienced,” Castiel said and he combed back Nemamiah's hair, which was getting longer by the week. “Relax your mind.” Nemamiah took a short breath and Castiel took a deep breath. His fingers hesitated with the experience of last time, but he pressed his index and middle finger to her forehead. Dean was holding his breath and Sam watched wordlessly, watching for the tell tale signs of Castiel in any massive pain; bowing his head or eyes squinting shut. None of those things happened. 

 

Instead, Nemamiah's eyes fells shut, and then opened wide, but instead of dark green, the whole eye was a dull silver, as though the normal angelic light was encased in a vale of shadows. Sam was surprised and stared until Nemamiah blinked and the light faded, leaving her with normal pupils, iris', and whites. Castiel looked relieved and he wasn't giving off the normal symptoms of pain.

 

“Success?” Sam asked and Castiel nodded.

 

“Nemamiah?” Castiel gently prodded and Nemamiah seemed to come back to herself, blinking several more times.

 

“Oh, _that's_ purification,” she said, and Castiel smiled, wrapping Nemamiah in a gentler hug.

 

“Success,” Castiel confirmed with a large sound of accomplishment. Sam smiled and Dean also looked relieved as he was finally able to sit next to Castiel on the bed. 

 

Sam nodded, glad everything was finally calm. He silently excused himself, backing out of the room as Dean took Castiel's hand again, giving it a gentle squeeze. Sam opened his own motel room door, his concern growing from the quiet room. He found Gabriel on their bed, his hands over his eyes, and Max was curled up at his knees. Max's head popped up when Sam entered and his tail started thumping on the bed. Gabriel didn't move through.

 

“Hey, you alright?” Sam asked gently as he closed the door after himself. Gabriel hadn't looked so hot earlier and Sam was starting to hate those halts in movement.

 

“Besides my head being a Mount Etna sized inferno, I'm dandy,” Gabriel muttered. Sam shut the door after himself, going over to the bed.

 

“Cas is back on his feet.” Sam sat close to Gabriel in the middle of the bed, gently touching the arm that rested across Gabriel's stomach. His flesh was hot to the touch.

 

“Good for him.” Gabriel sounded bitter, but that could have been the pain that Gabriel was exhibiting. 

 

“Do you need anything?” Sam asked. “Water? Ice?” Sam was starting to see a theme of fire with Michael's touch. Gabriel's hand lifted enough so Sam could see Gabriel's tired eyes.

 

“Nah, just got to wait it out,” Gabriel said, this time with less bite. “It wasn't a physical thing. It was angelic.”

 

“You still feel warm.” Sam took Gabriel's hand in his and squeezed it.

 

“The body feels pain and it flares up. It's just annoying.” Gabriel closed his eyes and Sam took a deep breath, kicking off his shoes. Gabriel opened his eyes again as Sam sat quietly for a time, processing what he'd walked in on and what Gabriel had done. Gabriel still was an enigma. As flashy as he could come off, he didn't parade around charitable acts. “What?”

 

“I'm proud of you,” Sam said softly as he gently massaged Gabriel's hand in his. Sam mindfully played with the golden ring that had once belonged to the horseman of war.

 

“What for?” Gabriel asked. “Sending Dean into a panic? It's not really all that hard when you put your mind to it.” Sam shook his head, because it wasn't funny that Dean looked ready to kill.

 

“You helped Cas,” Sam said simply, “He can teach Nemamiah her angel powers now.” Gabriel softened, just a little.

 

“Just increasing her survivability rate a bit,” Gabriel muttered. “No big deal.”

 

“It is a big deal,” Sam argued with a small smile. “You're trying. I'm glad you're trying.” Gabriel sighed.

 

“Call it what you like,” Gabriel said, not putting up too much of a fight, but Sam swore he caught a small smile just the same. 

 

Sam pulled himself onto the bed and rested his body along side Gabriel's, laying his arms on Gabriel's chest and then rested his chin upon them. Gabriel smiled more, lifting his hand from shading his eyes. Sam was quiet, just taking in Gabriel's features. Gabriel still looked tired and felt warm against Sam, but he also looked older, stress lines appearing, probably from the pain of whatever he did.

 

“I might be sympathetic to Castiel's plight,” Gabriel admitted slowly, silence of the room being Sam's one leverage to get Gabriel to open up. Gabriel wasn't one for silence. 

 

“How so?” Sam asked as he felt Gabriel's hand rest on his arm. 

 

“Leaving Heaven, being in severance on the earth. That's a big deal you know.”

 

“I can only imagine.”

 

“It's not Castiel's fault Michael dicked him over.” Gabriel shrugged. “So why not help out a brother in need?” Sam smiled. “What? Stop looking so smug.”

 

“You care.”

 

“Do NOT.” Gabriel groaned. “I care about you, that's all.”

 

“You could just admit that you care. It's not hard.”

 

Gabriel grimaced, mouth giving a slight twitch. “That's the part that usually gets me burned.” Sam's smile dropped a bit out of guilt. He hadn't helped with that the first time. Though from what Sam had gathered, neither had Kali.

 

“Thank you for helping anyway,” Sam told him. “I know Dean flew off the handle a bit.”

 

“A bit,” Gabriel agreed with a touch of sarcasm. 

 

“I know you're still pretty low on grace too,” Sam mentioned. “You didn't have to.”

 

“Don't thank me for them. I'm not looking to become the saint of this pilgrimage,” Gabriel said and Sam fell quiet a moment.

 

“It still means a lot to me,” Sam insisted, because maybe Castiel and Dean would never admit Gabriel had helped them of his own free will. But to Sam, it mattered. It showed something past the Trickster facade; the spark that Sam was attracted to.

 

Gabriel smiled and his fingers ran through Sam's hair. “Well, you're sweet, Kiddo. And that's all there is to it.” Sam hummed, glad Gabriel's face looked lighter, less strained when he smiled. Sam trailed his fingers down Gabriel's chest.

 

“Maybe later, if you're up to it...” Sam's eyes traveled up to meet Gabriel's, “I could show you how much it means to me.” Gabriel's eyes slowly widened as he took in Sam's more sensual meaning. A wide grin spread out on Gabriel's face.

 

“Well, who am I to turn down an offer like that?” Gabriel ask before he snagged Sam's lips in a kiss. “I might get some sexual healing after all.” Sam smiled back affectionately.

 

“I do want you to heal up fast.” Sam used a lascivious voice. “I'll give you all the healing you can handle.” Sam had never seen a Cheshire cat expression so well emulated on Gabriel's face before and it made his insides twist warmly, feeling he'd be for quite a ride when Gabriel was up for it.


	61. The Talk

Thud, thud, thud.

 

Castiel awoke to the soft noise in the middle of the night. The sound of something heavy, maybe wooden, started bumping itself against the wall.

 

Thud, thud, thud...

 

His brows crinkled together; it sounded familiar, but it really didn't click until Castiel heard a Sam sized groan through the wall. Castiel's eyes popped open in surprise, more familiar noises flowing forward after the first. Castiel sighed, annoyed by the rude awakening. Castiel looked to his bed mates and saw Nemamiah was also awake, blinking curiously at the headboard. Dean's eyes were wide, as though unable to believe that Gabriel and Sam were having sex. The words from next door were muffled, but the vibrations of their movements carried through the wall enough to disturb their sleep.

 

“Are Uncle Gabriel and Uncle Sam having sex?” Nemamiah asked suddenly and Dean reacted by rubbing his hand down his face, looking stressed. Castiel sat up and turned on the nearby lamp.

 

“That is what it sounds like,” Castiel said, blinking the light spots from his eyes. “They shouldn't be too long hopefully.” He looked to Nemamiah, who was rubbed her eyes sleepily. “I'm sure we can find something until they're done.” Castiel slid out of bed and turned on the TV. Dean sat up, grumbling under his breath.

 

“I could tell them to knock it off,” Dean said grouchily.

 

“I wouldn't want to disturb their coupling,” Castiel said.

 

“They're sure as hell disturbing our sleep.” Dean frowned at the wall.

 

“I think it would be mutually beneficial not to disturb their time so in turn they will not disturb us,” Castiel said and Dean didn't return an arguable point. Castiel knew less than a week ago he and Dean had sex while Sam and Gabriel watched Nemamiah. 

 

Not only that, Gabriel had unblocked his ability to teach Nemamiah how to utilize her grace hours ago, so disturbing them seemed rude. He could allow Gabriel time with his lover in silent appreciation towards his earlier assistance. Sam had told them Gabriel was still recovering before they turned in for the night so he hadn't really expected there to be such activity.

 

Nemamiah tugged on Dean's t-shirt, “Dad, what is sex?” Castiel looked over and knew Dean to be a man that could face down werewolves without flinching, but the look of discomfort he saw with that question had to be the deepest onset of panic he'd seen in Dean's eyes. Dean wiped sweat from his brow and ran his hand down his face.

 

“Miah, where did you hear about that anyway?” Dean asked warily. 

 

“Well Uncle Gabriel said that's what you and father were doing the other week when I heard the same noise,” Nemamiah explained and Castiel smiled warmly, remembering when Dean made love to him and then expressed to him through words. It was ones of the best nights of his existence. “And Uncle Sam said I should ask you. So, what is sex?”

 

“Well, uh...” Dean's mouth hung open for a good moment. “Sex is...” Dean tried again, but still no words could be found. Finally Dean took a large breath. “I think you're a bit young to be asking.”

 

“Why?” Nemamiah's brows crinkled, confused.

 

“Because, you're only...” Dean thought for a moment, “2 months old? 2 and half?”

 

“Biologically she is closer to puberty,” Castiel offered, settling on a late night movie that was on the TV.

 

“And it's 3am,” Dean groaned. Castiel sighed and sat on his spot on the bed.

 

“Sex is sexual intercourse,” Castiel decided to explain because perhaps Dean was too tired to detail what they do with their bodies. “It normally involves two people; ideally between a male and a female...”

 

“ _Cas_ ,” Dean stressed enough to gain Castiel and Nemamiah's attention. Dean nodded to the door. “ We need to talk.” Castiel blinked, confused, but he stood.

 

“We will return shortly.” Castiel patted Nemamiah's head and slipped on his trench coat to follow Dean outside. Once Dean shut the door, Dean folded his arms.

 

“I don't think now's the time for _'The Talk',_ ” Dean stated.

 

“I don't see why not.” Castiel buttoned up his coat to shield himself from the breeze. “She is curious and the subject has already been breached. If anything, this makes it easier to explain.”

 

“But she doesn't need a biology lesson in the middle of the night. I mean, she's still pre-boobs. She can't be that curious about sex.”

 

Castiel frowned, folding his arms. “I don't see any benefit in withholding the information from her. If she doesn't learn what it is from us, she will certainly learn it from somewhere else.”

 

“Well let's not give her the raw deal. Why not a good fall back? Like birds and the bees?” Castiel frowned in confusion.

 

“What do birds and bees have to do with human intercourse?” Castiel asked.

 

“You know...” Dean waved his hand, as though is was common information, or it was a common trope in the culture. “Birds lay eggs, bees have pollen...” He did waving motions with his hands and Castiel only stared at Dean.

 

“I think an anecdote like that will only serve to confuse her,” Castiel said because it certainly confused him. He knew bees and birds. Their reproductive process was completely alien to human biology. “Did your father explain it to you like that?”

 

“No...” Dean rubbed the back of his neck. “He never well... He never gave me the _official_ talk. It was mostly, 'use a condom'. And try not to let anyone in on the family business. I learned from real life mostly.” Castiel sighed.

 

“I don't understand why you're so uncomfortable with telling her about it. You are very open about your sexual nature.”

 

“Yeah, mine is fine, but this is Miah we're talking about.”

 

Castiel paused and lifted his chin at Dean. “Are you uncomfortable with the thought of Nemamiah having sex one day?”

 

“Aren't you?” Dean asked back, as though it was a rational fear. Castiel sighed.

 

“One day, I believe she will, when she is physically developed enough and emotionally invested in the lover of her choosing. As a nephilim, a physical being, I doubt she will remain a virgin forever,” Castiel stated and Dean's mouth hung open, as though he had no idea what to say. Castiel took Dean's hand and squeezed it. “I am happy to have had my experiences with you. And I hope one day, Nemamiah will also have positive experiences with someone she loves.”

 

Dean sighed, but less in a frustrated way and more of one where he shook his head and a smile creased one corner of his mouth. “You're just trying to butter me up.”

 

“It's only the truth,” Castiel said with a small smile. Dean rubbed the back of his neck, finally relaxing a little, his shoulders slumping.

 

“She just... so little, y'know?”

 

“I know,” Castiel said as he patted Dean's hand. “I think a century will be an appropriate age for her to consider sex.” Dean paused and Castiel gave Dean a wider, less genuine smile.

 

“Oh God, did you just tell a joke?” Dean asked and Castiel shrugged his shoulders.

 

“I may have attempted some humor. On account that I'm not rushing Nemamiah towards maturity either.” Castiel wasn't sure if he accomplished anything funny, Dean looked sort of mixed between a odd smile and giving him a queer judgment. Dean just shook his head and curled his arm around Castiel's lower back and pulled him closer to place a kiss on his jaw. Dean pulled back, smiling.

 

“You're getting there,” Dean praised with a half squeeze around his middle. “We'll work on it.” Castiel relaxed and his arm curled over Dean's shoulder comfortably. Dean let out a long suffered sigh, “Okay, fine, we'll tell her. But, HOW are you planning to tell her?” Dean eyed him critically.

 

“Well, sex is how humans procreate,” Castiel said. “Normally between a male and a female. There is usually a mating ritual for the species and the goal is for the male to insert his penis into he female's vagina...” Castiel could already tell he was not pleasing Dean by the grimace on the man's face.

 

“Let's use less biology, huh?” Dean asked, “Like, when a man and woman love each other very much...”

 

“When two adults love each other very much,” Castiel corrected and Dean nodded.

 

“Right, right. They... touch each other in special places.”

 

“Genitalia,” Castiel suggested.

 

“Come on, Cas.”

 

“I don't want the explanation to be vague,” Castiel said

 

“They feel like medical terms though,” Dean said and paused when the motel room door opened. Nemamiah popped her head out of the room and Castiel blinked when he heard rather enthusiastic moaning from a mysterious woman from inside their room.

 

“Dad, Father, is that what Uncle Sam and Uncle Gabriel doing?” Nemamiah asked as she pointed into the room. Dean moved faster, looking into their motel room and Castiel was soon after, finding, of all things, there was pornography on the TV. Dean swiftly dove across the beds and turned off the power button. The zoom in on the moaning woman's face disappearing. Castiel himself was not used to seeing pornography.

 

“Jesus Christ, Miah. Where did you find that?” Dean asked breathlessly and Nemamaiah shrugged.

 

“The movie was boring and the other channels had nothing else on, so I looked at ALL the channels,” Nemamiah said. “It sounded a little like what Uncle Sam and Uncle Gabriel was doing.”

 

“You are DEFINITELY not old enough to watch that,” Dean said and Nemamiah quirked her head, still confused. Dean walked back over to her and Castiel shut the door as they came in. “That was porn.”

 

“Porn?” Nemamiah repeated.

 

“Right. It's... sex, but not...” Dean rubbed his head but Castiel could tell it was not going at all where Dean wanted to to go. “Okay, it's not something you're old enough to do yet. It's what adults do when you're really attracted to someone. Like... me and your father.” Nemamiah's head tilted to one side and Dean paused, as though perhaps getting too deep into the subject than he was comfortable with. Castiel liked how Dean started though and he ushered Nemamiah to sit in on of the hotel chairs.

 

“Go on, Dean.” Castiel sat in the other chair and Dean sighed, seeing that he'd already roped into explaining.

 

“Fine, fine,” Dean said and Nemamiah perked up curiously in the chair. “Miah, your father and I have sex cause we really care about each other.”

 

“And we can express our love through sex.” Castiel explained simply and Dean seemed to squirm in his spot. Nemamiah held her fingers to her chin in thought and then looked at Castiel.

 

“But why is there so much noise?” She asked. “Everyone is really loud.”

 

“That is because it feels very good,” Castiel told her. Dean made a very amusing expression, as though he could not believe Castiel had just said that.

 

“Huh...” Nemamiah still seemed to be processing it. “So Uncle Sam and Uncle Gabriel are just showing each other that they love each other.”

 

“Yeah, right. Exactly.” Dean said, relieved.

 

“Oh, okay.” Nemamiah smiled and looked to the off TV. “Then the Babysitter must love the Pizzaman a lot.” Castiel smiled, amused because he'd had a similar reaction to pornography before he realized it was commercialized.

 

“We'll discuss porn another time,” Dean said wearily and rubbed his temples. “I think Gabe and Sam are done making noise, so we can get some more shut eye.”

 

“Agreed,” Castiel said and he stood. “Nemamiah, if you have any more questions, please ask us.”

 

“Okay.” Nemamiah hopped into the middle of the bed. As Castiel was climbing in next to her, she happened to think of a question. “How come I don't have a penis.” Dean sighed as he settled in and Castiel took it in stride, sitting next to Nemamiah.

 

“Because you're a girl, you have a vagina instead.” Castiel told her.

 

“Huh. Do you have a vagina, father?”

 

“No, I have a penis. I'm a man.”

 

“... Then dad...”

 

Dean cut in on the conversation, “I have a penis.”

 

“Most men have penises,” Castiel said, leaning on the headboard. “If one identifies as a man you can assume he has a penis. But not always. There are also transgender and inter-sexed individuals who's bodies may be different...”

 

“Cas,” Dean said, before Nemamiah could ask more. “This is something you guys can talk about tomorrow, okay? It's almost 3:30.” Castiel, glanced at the clock, confirming Dean's time.

 

“Dean is right, we can continue tomorrow.” Castiel settled into bed and Nemamiah followed suit.

 

“Okay, I'll think up lots of questions.” Nemamiah promised and Dean covered his face with his hand.

 

“Oh joy,” Dean muttered and Castiel smiled a bit, his hand taking one of Dean's under the covers and gave it a gentle squeeze. Castiel really did appreciate Dean coming around to talking to Nemamiah. Dean squeezed back and they settled back into sleep. This time with blissful silence.


	62. Angels At The Park

The night had been a bit bumpy for Gabriel. He dealt with jabs of heat; healing from Castiel's blockage into the middle of the night. A burn was a burn, whether physical or metaphysical. At least Sam had slept, all warm and comfortable against him, which made it more tolerable. Sam waking in the middle of the night and riding him like a first class bull rider also helped make the night go much faster. 

 

Gabriel smiled as he laid belly down on the bed, watching Sam's reflection in the bathroom mirror. Sam was in the middle of his morning routine; which Gabriel was becoming familiar with. Doing his daily human chores went as predictably as an old song that one knew by heart. Gabriel was still learning the words to the music, but he was sure Sam had choreographed the dance to it since he'd known it so long.

 

Sam was currently brushing his teeth after getting out of the shower. Max was curled up next to Gabriel's legs, resting his jowls on the archangel's calf. Max's head popped up just before there was a knock on the motel door. Max stood and barked a couple times at the unknown intruder. Gabriel glanced at the door, then back to Sam, in his towel kilt.

 

“Door,” Gabriel said expectantly. Sam spat a wad of toothpaste into the sink before giving Gabriel annoyed eyebrows.

 

“You have legs,” Sam reminded him and Gabriel rolled his eyes, pushing himself up from the bed.

 

“It's probably your brother, who would just want to talk to you anyway.” Gabriel rolled over and found his pants. He'd learned human decency long ago, though the temptation to flash Dean just for the laughs did cross his mind.

 

Sam didn't reply, going back to his personal hygiene. Gabriel pulled the door open and Dean was indeed standing there, curiously with with a take out bag from a diner. Max stuck his head out the door, nose working over time on the paper bag. Dean frowned at the dog, lifting the bag out of the way. “Dino,” Gabriel greeted.

 

“Gabriel,” Dean said in return and held out the bag to Gabriel. “Take it before your mutt has at it.” Gabriel raise his brow at the bag and took it, the smell of sausage, eggs, and the unmistakable twinge of pancakes met Gabriel's nose. “It's breakfast.”

 

“I couldn't tell.” Gabriel walked over to the table. Max was at his heels, ears lifted and already looking for his morning treat. “Sam, I think something is wrong with your brother, He's feeding us.” Sam poked his head out from the door, free from toothpaste foam.

 

“What's the occasion, Dean?” Sam asked. Dean rolled his shoulders in a half shrug.

 

“Nothing special,” Dean said. “Just uh...” Dean glanced at Gabriel. “Wanted to say thanks for helping Cas yesterday. It means a lot to him to teach Miah angel stuff.” Gabriel's brows rose a bit higher; Dean Winchester was thanking him. Well, that was a rare treat. How odd was it for Dean to actually conceded and settle a dispute with a wily Trickster. It was rather... noble and righteous of him. Well, Gabriel was not about to let a perfectly good opportunity to rag on Dean pass him by.

 

“Oh yeah? So I _wasn't_ trying to kill him? News to me,” Gabriel sneered. Gabriel half expected Sam to play peace maker. In fact, Sam was braced against the door frame to verbally step in, but after a pause, he just rolled his eyes and stepped back into the bathroom. Dean seemed to be anticipating the same reaction so there was an awkward moment for them both when Sam shut the door for them to duke it out themselves.

 

Dean shoved his hands into his pockets and grumbled under his breath, “I … -ong”

 

“What was that?” Gabriel cupped his ear with his hand and leaned in. “I didn't catch that.”

 

“I _assumed_ wrong.” Dean's teeth ground between words. “You're not secretly trying to kill us.” Gabriel gave an approving sideways nod.

 

“Oh good, I'm glad that's clear,” Gabriel said, feeling chipper for it. Dean rolled his eyes.

 

“God, you're a dick,” Dean groused.

 

“You were doing so well with the apologizing too,” Gabriel praised him and Dean was giving him an annoyed glare. “If you're expecting us to be best buddies and come to a healthy understanding of both of our strengths, I think we'll be here, literally, until the world ends.”

 

“I'm not,” Dean defended wholeheartedly, “but we _seem_ like we're on the same side. You know, to stop the world from ending. And you and Sam seem... hitched.” Dean glanced at the ring on Gabriel's hand. “So that sort of makes you,” Dean looked pained to say it, “family.” Gabriel paused and folded his arms, Family was one of those tricky words. Especially one that Dean liked to play off of. And the new scar over his heart was a reminder of that. The wound that matched up pretty well with the Pagan gods turning on him more viciously than usual. Not that they hadn't before, but at least they normally told him to fix what he broke. Being outed as an archangel was apparently the truth that trumped all of his lies.

 

“Guess that makes us brothers in law, or something.” Gabriel thought about it. “Or uncle and nephew in law, depending on how which set of bros you're looking at.” As far as Gabriel was concerned, Castiel was probably Michael's line of offspring since the the Right Hand of God had taken such time consuming measures on Castiel. Plus Castiel's strange attraction to the Righteous Man.

 

“I try not to think of your freaky family tree,” Dean said firmly. “I'm just saying that you're family and you somehow make Sam happy. So suck it up and eat your stinking breakfast.” Dean called to the bathroom door. “Sam, let's hurry up and finish this case!” Gabriel was amused by the red on Dean's face. Though, as much as he wanted to brush off the rare acceptance of Dean Winchester into his tight knit family, Gabriel was also touched by the extended hand to be a part of the whole Winchester Pow-wow. 

 

Sam opened the door, a pleased smile on his face. Gabriel gave Sam a little smile back, just on principle. “Meet you at the car in 10, Dean.” Dean gave a gruff huff and walked out, pulling the motel door shut after him. Gabriel finally sat at the table and slid the bag of food farther from Max, who had hopped up on the other chair to dig into whatever smelled so good.

 

“What's that smile for, you minx?” Gabriel asked Sam as Sam put on his pants and rubbed Max's head and back before lifting Max from the chair and setting him on the floor.

 

“Nothing,” Sam lied and sat in the chair. Max sat at Sam's feet, “Welcome to the family.” The corner of Gabriel's mouth twitch up.

 

“I bet you set all this up,” Gabriel accused.

 

“I didn't,” Sam said. “I just told him he should apologize. I didn't expect him to accept you into the group.” Gabriel grew wary, even as he pulled out two boxes of food from the bag. Sam set the carton labeled 'P' in front of Gabriel. “I also told him you like pancakes.” Gabriel didn't need to eat, even while low on grace, but delicious chocolate chip pancakes were still a good start to his day. Sam knew him too well, especially when there was strawberry syrup on the side.

 

“Perhaps Castiel persuaded him,” Gabriel said and poured the little plastic cup of candy red over his treat.

 

“Does it matter?” Sam asked as he was looking through his more savory breakfast of eggs and sausage.

 

“No, I guess not,” Gabriel said, but he was not one to automatically trust the unstable bonds of family again. Though the taste of local-made breakfast pastries certainly did make one hell of a case.

 

-

 

Gabriel watched Sam and Dean pull out of the parking lot. Off to go save some people; during business hours no less. Gabriel was still shirtless, figuring that he was just going to crash and watch TV and try to mentally suppress the smolder that depleted another good amount of grace. The things he did for the Winchesters...

 

“Uncle Gabriel!” Nemamiah said as she came out of her motel room.

 

“Hey, Kiddo,” Gabriel greeted with a smile. She was a cute kid, all decked out in her little Winchester flannel that day.

 

“Father taught me all kinds of things,” she buzzed, but got distracted by Max, who was sitting within the doorway to Gabriel's motel room. “Good morning, Max.” Max gave her a glance and yawned at her, licking his chops from cleaning Sam and Gabriel's breakfast cartons.

 

“Taught you all the angel stuff?” Gabriel was amused that Dean had watered down the entirety of angel sociology, psychology, vast powers, and millennia of knowledge down to 'angel stuff'. But hey, it wasn't such a mouthful. Nemamiah was soon over to Max and rubbing his face like some sort of clay mask wrapped around a dog shaped skull. Max was growing exceedingly tolerant of Nemamiah, which Gabriel was pretty happy about.

 

“Yes.” she answered before she placed a kiss on Max's forehead and looked back up to Gabriel. That was the thing about angel knowledge, it could be passed down to a dozen generations in about 5 minutes.

 

“Lot to take in?” Gabriel asked.

 

“Yes,” she said and shuffled her shoes on the concrete. “Are you feeling better? You didn't look good after you healed Father.”

 

“Ah, well I wasn't feeling good, you're right,” Gabriel agreed. “But you certainly helped a lot yesterday.” He knew he wouldn't have been able to finish the job without the energy loan. “You feeling okay?”

 

Nemamiah nodded. “I was tired afterwards, but I'm okay.” Gabriel nodded. Nephilim were lucky in the sense that their grace regenerated pretty quickly. “Did Uncle Sam make you feel better?”

 

Gabriel smiled wistfully. “Yeah, he gave me lots of attention last night.”

 

“Yes,” Nemamiah agreed. “Father, dad, and I heard you having sex last night.”

 

Gabriel chuckled; oh, Sam had been THAT loud last night. It filled Gabriel with a sense of pride. He wished he'd seen Dean's face when Dean knew he was boinking his brother. “Guess I did make him a bit loud.”

 

“Moderately,” Castiel said as he stepped out of the motel room. He looked kind of bare, only in a t-shirt and jeans. “Luckily these rooms have decent insulation.”

 

“Might have to give them another star then.” Gabriel grinned. “Because he certainly wasn't quiet on my end.”

 

“Your bout with Sam lead to Nemamiah's education on human biology and sex,” Castiel informed, though not in a resentful way.

 

“One of the best human subjects in my opinion.” Gabriel smiled. “So where you two off to?”

 

“The park,” Nemamiah said excitedly, hands bunching up near her chest. “The one I saw when we first came to town.”

 

“I feel more comfortable with taking Nemamiah to one since she's more equipped to protect herself,” Castiel said and looked at Gabriel with less tense than yesterday. “Would you like to come?” Gabriel it took a moment for him to realize Castiel was actually inviting him along on the hike. It was... odd. Normally, Gabriel had to invite himself on anything social. Up until recently that is. Sam was sure insistent on having him along, but Gabriel wasn't prepared for Castiel to start being friendly so fast; or ever, really.

 

“Yes, you should come too,” Nemamiah said with a smile. “And then I could play with Max in the grass.” 

Gabriel chuckled.

 

“I see how it is. You're in it for the dog, huh, Nemamiah?” Gabriel said. Nemamiah's hands flew to her cheeks, looking at Max with some guilt.

 

“No,” she said shyly.

 

Gabriel shrugged and smiled. “Sure, I'll grab a shirt and we can go.”

 

It was a couple blocks to the park. They stopped for drinks; Castiel got coffee, Gabriel went with hot cocoa, and Nemamiah picked pink lemonade.

 

“It's not very red,” Nemamiah commented, because the chalk that had been used to advertise it had been very dark. However, she had already drained half the cup's contents before she said anything.

 

“You should have gone with the cherry slushie,” Gabriel advised.

 

“I think that's far too sweet for the morning,” Castiel said, “and I would like her to have a some what healthy diet.”

 

“Oh yeah, she has to watch that.” Gabriel shrugged and when they reached the park, he gave Nemamiah Max's tennis ball. Castiel was left holding her drink as she ran off with the dog following. “The whole, body maintenance thing.” Castiel nodded solemnly as the both found a park bench to watch her from. Castiel set Nemamiah's drink between them and Gabriel sipped from his cup, savoring the chocolate and cinnamon flavors on his tongue. Max was running hard because Nemamiah often threw the ball so hard it soared out of his sight, and when Max couldn't find it, Nemamiah had to retrieve it herself. Gabriel chuckled. “She's still honing that strength factor I see.”

 

“She knows for the most part,” Castiel said. “Though she seems to forget when she's excited.” Castiel turned his gaze on Gabriel. “I wanted to thank you for enabling me to teach Nemamiah.”

 

“It's okay,” Gabriel said quickly. “I mean, it's hard enough for nephilim to survive. Might as well know all they can.”

 

Castiel nodded. “I wanted to also apologize for my behavior as of late.”

 

“There's really no need. You have every reason not to trust me. I get that. You're smarter for not trusting me.”

 

“But Sam trusts you, and you have done numerous things to help us,” Castiel argued.

 

“No offense to Sam, but he has bad judgment of character,” Gabriel said and Castiel looked confused. Perhaps because Gabriel was intentionally rebuffing his kindness and acceptance. “I know you're still upset with me, so don't pretend you're not.” Castiel was quiet a moment.

 

“You have done many inexcusable things,” Castiel agreed, “along with some miraculous ones as well.” Castiel looked like he was weighing options in his mind. “You are right, I have not fully forgiven you for some things. But lately, you have been a great help. You are an archangel, you don't need to help. In fact, it would be in your benefit to hinder us. But you have not.”

 

“If I was an archangel still in power over heaven, then it would benefit me.” Gabriel shook his head slightly with a bitter smile. “Right now I'm pretty much a rebel angel who's on Michael's wanted list.”

 

“Are you helping us because of Sam?” Castiel asked.

 

“Sort of.” Gabriel shrugged, not wanting to make it into the huge deal that it was. “It's not like I'm doing it just for him. I mean, up to a few years ago, I still thought this rock was going to blow, whether I did anything about it at all.” He watched Max slump in the grass, tired from all the running around. Gabriel smiled, watching Nemamiah pet the exhausted pup's belly. “But, I kind of like it here. The humans are really dumb sometimes, but living with them, learning about them on eye level instead of up in the sky is really an experience I wouldn't give back. Heaven is great and everything, but eternity is nothing compared to the value here...” He glanced to Castiel, who's expression had softened to a look of understanding. Gabriel cleared his throat. It wasn't like he was going to give his exact speech that he did to Lucifer. “Plus, this chocolate thing is really an addiction. What am I going to do if they stop making it?”

 

Castiel actually smiled, which was the first time that Gabriel had ever seen for the time he'd tagged along with their little group. “I agree. There is great value here. God made this place, in all its wonder... but the humans seem especially amazing.”

 

Gabriel went quiet, not because he didn't have a follow up. But there was a sensation he hadn't felt in a long time. He realized he hadn't talked to another angel -on decedent terms- in several thousand years. Reminiscing about humans and God's Great Green Earth. It was a slice of warm nostalgia he'd really not been expecting. But it was nice. Much better than listening to Lucifer and Michael debate over Father's wishes.

 

Nemamiah jogged back to them with Max cradled in her arms like an oversized baby doll. “Uncle Gabriel, Max is tired.” Max let out a sputtering huff through his jowls and Gabriel chuckled. 

 

“Just set him under the bench where there's some shade and share some of your drink with him,” Gabriel told her. Nemamiah set Max in the grass near Gabriel's feet and Max flopped onto his side as Nemamiah opened her lemonade cup. “He likes ice cubes too.”

 

“Here, Max,” Nemamiah offered and dribbled a steady stream of pink drink over Max's jaws. Max's tongue started lapping up the drink and Gabriel grinned when Max rolled over to have more. Nemamiah also gripped a hand full of slippery ice cubes and held them out to the dog, who greedily lapped and started chewing the glorious cubes of frozen water. 

 

“You should probably let him rest.” Gabriel pointed to the large play set behind them, where there were a few parents there with their children. They looked about Nemamiah's size. “Why not go play with some kids?” Nemamiah paused, looking at the other children with some apprehension. As though the kids were some alien species she'd never met before. She looked to Castiel, who slowly nodded, seeing where Gabriel was going with it. It would be good for her to interact with humans her own size and mental age.

 

“It's alright, Nemamiah.” Castiel assured her. “Just leave your wings tucked. And no flying off.” She nodded and took a couple unsure steps towards the wooden structures before she ran over the rest of the way. Castiel turned in his seat so he could look over the back of bench and watch her. Gabriel smiled.

 

“Early socializing is good,” Gabriel assured him. Castiel watched, unsure for a moment. But his shoulders relaxed when he saw Nemamiah up on the monkey bars.

 

“You raised several nephilim yourself,” Castiel mentioned.

 

Gabriel nodded. “I did.” He thought back to his own children. “It's easier when they resemble humans.”

 

“How did you ever do it on your own?” Castiel's eyes returned to Gabriel.

 

“I didn't.” Gabriel smiled fondly. “I had a gorgeous giantess to help me out at first.” Castiel looked at him curiously, silently asking for more information. “You see, back then, even the Norse gods had no clue what to make of me. It's not exactly normal for a man to get pregnant, even in Asgard. I was looking around Jotunheim because I didn't need Odin finding his blood brother pregnant. I mean, I wasn't even sure what I was going to do then.” Gabriel didn't want to mention that he had been freaking out because being a run away from Heaven and getting caught after only 700 years on earth wasn't a very good escape. “Angrboda, she was in a spot of trouble, and after I helped her out, she gave me sanctuary for a while. And well,” Gabriel shrugged, smiling a little, “One think lead to another, next thing you know, we ended up in bed and I had a nephilim on the way.”

 

“The wolf, Fenrir?” Castiel asked cautiously.

 

“Yup, the very same.” Gabriel nodded. “After I split, she helped me out and took care of the hyper thing. She was very good at keeping secrets. Also a good mother. Jormungandr and Hel was pretty much the same. Eh... didn't go quite the same with Slephnir though.” Gabriel shrugged, not wanting to go past there or into more detail. “Angrboda got into more trouble after a few thousand years though, and I couldn't be there every time to save her.” Castiel looked curious to know more but Gabriel waved it off. “I could tell you my whole story, but do we really have all the time in the world for that?”

 

“I suppose not,” Castiel said. “I am just curious what to expect as Nemamiah grows older. Will she age as a human, or an angel? Is she vulnerable to human and angel ailments? Does she have limitation in her power?”

 

Gabriel chuckled softly. “Yeah, I guess there's no guide book for raising a nephilim. Nephilim CAN live as long as an angel, as long as they survive. They're resistant to most things, but not everything. And in terms of abilities, it really depends on the nephilim. Jormungandr and Fenrir have very different powers. Slephnir's never been interested in anything but using his grace to run around. Jormungandr can warp from place to place. Fenrir can eat just about anything... I'm not sure if that's a power though.” Gabriel sat up, thinking about his little girl with black marked skin. “Hel is probably the most powerful one out of them. She's got the drive, and she's got Niflheim locked down tighter than Hell. Hell's okay at keeping souls pinned down. But no one has ever gotten out of Neiflhiem. And I mean no one.” Gabriel smiled with a bit of pride, after all, Hel was his little girl. Castiel gave Gabriel a curious look for a long moment.

 

“They all sound dear to you,” Castiel said. 

 

Gabriel smiled. “Can't help it, they're my kids. All angel or half, doesn't matter.” Castiel was silent a moment, tipping his coffee back and forth in his hands, as though checking how much was left. 

 

“Sam mentioned that you split an angel in Heaven that you never knew,” Castiel said and Gabriel sighed.

 

“Sam needs to know when to keep his mouth shut,” Gabriel said with a touch of bitterness. He didn't want to whole world knowing that he still silently mourned a child he never met. Castiel looked slightly guilty for bringing it up, but never the less, continued.

 

“If you had not intervened, then I would have lost Nemamiah the same way,” Castiel said softly, as though sympathizing with Gabriel, or trying to. “I am indebted to you for that above anything else.” A smile twitched in the corner of Gabriel's mouth.

 

“Kinda... ended up being a knee jerk reaction,” Gabriel admitted. “Couldn't quite let them take a kid from a sire. Not after...” Gabriel only remembered a brief light from his second severance and he sighed, shaking his head. A wondering thought latched itself onto his mind. He wasn't going to mention it, but Castiel was being all nostalgic. “I remember every angel that was in Heaven after my second severance. Made my own list. There was only about 50 angels around then over all. I know about half that are definitely not mine, but the rest were under Michael's decree.” 

 

Castiel was quiet for a respectful moment before he asked, “Did you search for him?”

 

“No.” Gabriel shook his head, feeling disgusted with himself, “I was playing by Michael's rules and trying to forget whose kid was who's. I wish I'd paid more attention...” Gabriel glanced at Castiel who met his eyes with a sad sympathy. Gabriel kind of hated that look. ”You know, not to freak you out or anything... but you're on the list.”

 

“The list...” Castiel paused, brows coming together in confusion for a moment.

 

“Of angels that could have been mine,” Gabriel said cautiously, not sure how Castiel would react. Castiel's eyes just grew wider the longer he stared at Gabriel and he held his breath.

 

Though, if Castiel had anything to say about the matter, it was thoroughly interrupted by a young girl's shrill scream of pain.


	63. Making Friends

“That's my father and Uncle Gabriel,” Nemamiah said, pointing out the back of their bench. She sat at the top of the wooden tower with another girl in overalls with blonde hair. The blonde girl, who had introduced herself as Maggie blinked at the two men before she pointed to another bench on the opposite side of the play set ring. A young, plump woman sat, chatting on her cell phone and picking at the imperfections in her nails. 

 

“That's my sister,” Maggie said, kicking her feet back and forth. Nemamiah watched the woman talk for a moment before her eyes drifted to several boys running and skidding in the wood chip covered ground. They were taking turns pushing each other on the slightly rusty turntable. “She's always talking to her friends. She talks about clothes, and boys, and makeup. Oh, and cake, cause she's a baker.” Maggie had a grin on her chubby cheeks. “She's actually cool, cause I get to try her new cupcakes.” Nemamiah blinked.

 

“She makes cupcakes and you get to eat them when ever?” Nemamiah asked with awe. She had cake when Gabriel and Sam spent the day with her several days ago. Maggie giggled.

 

“Yup! I just can't tell mom about it.” Maggie nodded knowingly. “But I think it's fair because mom is always trying to give me broccoli.” 

 

Nemamiah's nose wrinkled sympathetically. “Father and Uncle Sam like to give me vegetables.” 

 

“My sister's the best cause she always has something better.” Maggie pushed herself up and started to climb down the ladder to the ground. Nemamiah liked that Maggie could climb like her. Maggie had even climbed across the monkey bars with her, where Nemamiah had seen several other kids halt half way. “What grade are you in?”

 

“Grade?” Nemamiah asked curiously. She hadn't heard of humans having grades or rankings. Angels did, she remembered that much.

 

“Yeah. I'm in 3rd grade,” Maggie explained. “My teacher says I have the best vocabulary, cause I practice a lot of talking.” Nemamiah blinked and realized she was talking about public school, which she'd seen on TV.

 

“Oh. I'm not in a grade. I don't go to school,” Nemamiah said. “My father and dad teach me everything.” Maggie blinked.

 

“Your dad---s?” Maggie added the 's' curiously at the end and Nemamiah nodded. 

 

“Yes. Dad taught me how to shoot guns and father taught me how to use my angel powers.” Nemamiah nodded, the flood of knowledge had filled in some gaps about Heaven and she understood how to open the invisible doors to her grace. The abilities were there, but now she could access them with little more than a thought and will. Some she hoped to never use; like burning demons, which would kill the host. 

 

Maggie was quiet a moment as she went over to the turn table, which was still spinning from the rowdy boys that had been on it two minutes earlier. “That's weird.” Maggie sat upon the flat metal and Nemamiah silently pushed it a little to get up the speed before hopping on. The metal squeaked less with the speed and the breeze blew both of their hair.

 

“What's weird?” Nemamiah asked, standing and holding onto the grip bars. To her, it wasn't the fastest speed. Flying certainly caused a greater rush of wind.

 

“Well, don't you have a mom?” Maggie asked curiously, looking up at her.

 

Nemamiah slowly shook her head. “Nope.”

 

“Huh.” Maggie patted her lips in thought. “Daddy says that the stork only brings babies to mommies and daddies.”

 

“A bird?” Nemamiah quirked her head, confused.

 

“Yes, a great big bird carried the babies from the baby store and delivers them to a mommy and daddy.” Maggie nodded knowingly. Nemamiah was confused. She'd never heard of such an animal that brought humans to their own parents.

 

“Why a stork, though?” Nemamiah asked. Maggie thought on this and shrugged.

 

“Actually, I don't know.” Maggie shrugged. “Isn't that what your daddy taught you?” Nemamiah shook her head.

 

“Nuh-nuh. Father said I was split from his grace, and having been imbued with human essence, I am a nephilim,” Nemamiah said. Maggie blinked and then also quirked her head, confused.

 

“What's a nephilim?” Maggie asked.

 

“It means that I'm half angel and half human.”

 

“An angel?” Maggie quirked her head in the other direction. “Don't angels have wings?”

 

“Yes, but I'm not supposed to show anyone. Father will be upset if I take out my wings.” Nemamiah didn't like to see her father upset or angry with him. Maggie gave her a critical look.

 

“You look normal to me,” she concluded. Nemamiah blinked.

 

“Do I?” Nemamiah wasn't sure what qualified as normal. She didn't feel like anything was out of place. In fact, she felt better after acquiring Castiel's knowledge.

 

“Yeah.” Maggie nodded knowingly. “But I don't know about the nef-flem part.” Nemamiah frowned a little, because she was nephilim. It was what part of what she was Castiel had assured her of that.

 

“How come?” Nemamiah asked.

 

“Well you don't look very angel like.” Maggie raised a finger as the turn table started to slow it's pace. “I'll spin this time.” Maggie hopped off and gave the turn table a moderate breezy pace before hopping back on and continued where she left off. “My mom has a whole collection of angels all over the house. They all wear robes, and have wings, and a halo.”

 

“I have wings,” Nemamiah said in defense. “I just can't show them to you.” Maggie gave her a skeptical look again, like someone had put a puzzle before her that she could not figure out. “But I don't have a halo... father never told me why I don't.” Nemamiah's brow wrinkled thoughtfully It could have been because she'd never been to Heaven or maybe because she wasn't full angel.

 

“Not very angel-like.” Maggie shrugged simply. She wasn't making a big deal over it, but Nemamiah minded. She had the knowledge of Heaven in her head and she knew she wasn't just human. She could fly; though father had forbid her to fly off without him. She knew she could touch a demon and vanquish it. She could see the reaper that was following an old couple only a few yards down the sidewalk in his crisp suit. 

 

“I can prove it,” Nemamiah determined and Maggie's head perked a bit curiously. 

 

“How?” Maggie asked.

 

“My father taught me pyrokinesis.” Nemamiah knelt on the edge of the spinning edge and leaned down, scooping up a handful of dirt churned wood chips. Maggie blinked.

 

“What's that?” Maggie wiggled in her spot.

 

“Well, if I focus, I can telekinetically generate enough heat and light in one spot to make it spark fire.” At least that was how Castiel had put it in theory. Nemamiah had yet to try it on her own though. Nemamiah carried the pile to the middle of the metal table and sat down, resting the woodchips before her. Maggie followed, sitting across from Nemamiah with the pile between them as the turn table was slowing again.

 

“No, way,” Maggie said in slight disbelief.

 

“Yes, way,” Nemamiah said firmly. “Watch.” Nemamiah stared down at the pile of dry wood, willing the light and heat to ignite. Not a moment later, the spark that normally accompanied a match engulfed the small bunch of tinder. The metal under the fire also glowed a dangerous red, cracking and lighting up the flaking paint. Maggie's face lit up in awe.

 

“No, way...” Maggie said with a whisper to her tone. Nemamiah smiled, knowing she had proven herself true. “That's really cool...” Maggie leaned forward, to get a better look, but leaning a hand next to the fire caused her to flail back with a sudden cry of pain. Nemamiah was jarred from her small bout of pride, confused for a moment as to what had happened. Maggie took one look at her hand and within seconds she was crying an holding her hand.

 

“Maggie”? Nemamiah placed her hands on the table to push herself up and she gasped, feeling the searing pain. She stood, still on the slowly turning table and looked at her hand. Her skin was red and the first layer of skin had been scalded off. The fire had dwindled to embers with the force of heat and she realized how the paint had blackened. She'd forgotten that metal conducted the heat... and perhaps she'd wanted to give the fire a little more power to show off...

 

“Anna!” Maggie had gotten off the table and was running towards her sister, sobbing and holding her hand to her chest as she went. Nemamiah closed her eyes tight and her grace gathered in her palms, silently soothing the skin back to it's original pale pink. The pain slipped away and she let out a relieved breath as she opened her eyes again, realizing both Castiel and Gabriel were already over to the stopped turn table.

 

“Nemamiah! What happened?” Castiel pulled himself up on the table and Nemamiah stiffened, realizing the fire was evidence enough of what she had been doing. Castiel's worried expression turned swiftly to a scolding one.

 

“Sorry,” she murmured. “I just wanted to show Maggie... Maggie!” Nemamiah jumped from the metal to see if the girl was alright. Maggie wasn't a nephilim, she was human.

 

She found Maggie standing before her sister, who knelt in the grass and was pouring bottled water on the singed flesh. Maggie was babbling, incomprehensible through the wet of sobs. Her sister, Anna, looked worried and frazzled, trying to calm her little sister.

 

“Maggie, Maggie, are you okay?” Nemamiah asked as she approached. Anna turned an angry gaze on Nemamiah.

 

“What in the world were you doing?” She snapped, which caused Nemamiah to take a step back.

 

“I was just showing her...” Nemamiah started meekly, but she bumped into her father, who clasped her shoulders in his hands.

 

“We understand there was a little mishap with some fire,” Gabriel chimed in, attempting to play mediator. Anna pulled Maggie's hand into the light, revealing the pained flesh and Maggie's hand was half curled, twitching in pain. A wheezy cry left Maggie, her face scrunched up in an ugly way. Nemamiah's gut swelled with guilt.

 

“This is a second degree burn at least!” Anna vented, face flushed with anger. “What in the world do you let her play with?” Nemamiah's hand reached out and she gently touched the suffering flesh while the adults were half yelling. The flesh morphed and deflated, returning to it's original skin color.

 

“Nemamiah...” Castiel said in a warning tone, but Maggie's cries were already diminishing, eyes still full of tears, but she looked more confused than hurt.

 

“She might have gotten hold of a lighter,” Gabriel tried to reason.

 

“Then what did she do, hold her hand over the flame?!” Anna snapped up at them. Maggie looked at her hand and Anna looked down again, before she stopped in her defensive tirade. Gabriel put his palm to his head and cursed under his breath. Maggie's face relaxed and she curled her fingers, as if looking for the pain.

 

“I'm sorry, Maggie. I forgot metal conducts heat. I didn't mean to hurt you,” Nemamiah said among the quiet and Anna turned Maggie's hand around, looking for the burn that had been there not seconds ago. 

 

“What...” Anna looked confused, and also a bit scared.

 

“It doesn't hurt anymore,” Maggie murmured, sounding awed. She blinked at Nemamiah, but no more words came from her mouth. Nemamiah felt a tug on her shoulders and she was steered away from Maggie.

 

“Okay, we're splitting now,” Gabriel said in a rush as he followed them, talking to the very confused Anna. “I don't see any burns here, sorry for the confusion.” Nemamiah was herded back to the bench, where Max had sat up from the commotion. Gabriel snapped his fingers at the dog, in a silent order instead of using grace. “Let's get out of here before anyone else sees us.”

 

“But, Maggie...” Nemamiah looked back, seeing the other girl across the playground, who was staring right back.

 

“Why were you showing her your grace?” Castiel asked sternly. Nemamiah looked up at her father, and then back down. He had his angry expression on, which made her feel terrible.

 

“She didn't believe me when I said I was a nephilim,” Nemamiah said, standing by the bench as Max was stretching to awaken his tired limbs. “I didn't show her my wings.”

 

“The point of not revealing your wings is to conceal your angelic identity,” Castiel said in a hushed tone. Nemamiah blinked.

 

“Maggie wasn't going to hurt me,” Namamiah reasoned. She was human, not demon or angel.

 

“You're missing the point, kiddo,” Gabriel said as they started a quick walk away from the park. Nemamiah quickly waved at Maggie, who after a moment, gave a small wave back with her fingers as Anna was back on her phone, talking to someone very animatedly. Gabriel spoke lowly once Maggie disappeared from sight. “Anyone who knows your secret is a factor you have to take into account when you're hiding from Heaven. Both demon and angels can extract memories from a brain. And those humans can point out the direction that you're going in.” Nemamiah's face scrunched up in worry.

 

“I... I didn't think about that,” she said.

 

“Most don't have to,” Gabriel agreed.

 

“We're going back to the motel before anyone else realizes what happened.” Castiel took Nemamiah's hand, leading the way back. Gabriel and Max followed, drinks forgotten in their haste on the bench. Nemamiah looked down at the concrete sidewalk on their way, a little concerned that she didn't get to say goodbye to Maggie in the rush. Castiel pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed a number. “Dean, we have a situation...”


	64. Cover Stories

It took hours and several cups of coffee for Castiel and Dean to iron out all of the details. 

 

They had moved to the next town to discuss what had happened at the park. Their motel rooms were set up and Nemamiah spent the time with Sam and Gabriel while they talked over possible stories. Dean had filled up several sheets of motel room paper with fake stories; some of which Castiel refused to uphold; for example, claiming Nemamiah was adopted. It was possibly the simplest reason, but instead, they settled on a story of Nemamiah being born from a woman in a previous relationship, who died after giving birth. 

 

Possibly the most fun part for Dean was adding to Nemamiah's name.

 

Sam stared at the paper in his hand before slowly reading the words, “Nemamiah Mary-Jo Ellen Winchester.” They were gathered again in one of the motel rooms to familiarize everyone with the cover story. Dean nodded, standing near the bed that Castiel sat upon. “Dean, that's three middle names.”

 

“It's two names,” Dean argued. “Mary-Jo is one name.”

 

“Can I have Aunt Karen's name too?” Nemamiah sat at the small table, where dinner was being picked at by all of them. 

 

“Uh...” Dean grimaced, because none of them had gotten attached to Bobby's wife besides Nemamiah and Bobby.

 

“We haven't picked a name for the surrogate mother,” Castiel said helpfully. “She was one of the few female role models Nemamiah has had.”

 

“That'll work,” Dean agreed with a nod. 

 

“But Aunt Karen is Uncle Bobby's wife.” Nemamiah frowned, confused.

 

“It just makes it easier to remember, Miah,” Sam told her before leafing through the rest of Dean's conjured lies. “We can't really explain to normal people that you're from, Cas. Human men don't get pregnant.” Nemamiah's face scrunched up in an uncomfortable way.

 

“I don't like lying,” she said.

 

“But telling the truth will make trouble.” Gabriel nudged her side with a plastic fork, occasionally picking at the Chinese food on the table. Half the dumplings were gone because of it. “Normalizing the situation will make it safer for everyone. Especially you.” 

 

Nemamiah's slightly sour expression didn't ease. “I have to lie to everyone?”

 

“Everyone out of the loop, yeah.” Dean nodded.

 

“What loop?”

 

“The family loop. All of us and Bobby,” Dean said.

 

“Very few people should know that you're a nephilim,” Castiel explained. “Especially Heaven. Hell also.” Both Sam and Dean nodded in agreement.

 

“Is this her new birth date?” Sam asked, “Feburary, 14th, 2000.”

 

“She looks about 10.” Dean shrugged.

 

“She looks younger to me,” Sam muttered.

 

“We're sticking with double digits,” Dean said firmly. “She's too smart to go any younger.”

 

“You have a point,” Sam agreed before following up with a sigh. “We're going to need paperwork. Birth certificate, a social security number.” Sam then looked to Cas. “You too eventually.”

 

“We have to get our story straight before we go run off for that stuff,” Dean said, wondering if they really needed all that paperwork if they were just going to end up dying in the apocalypse.

 

“Hey, kiddo, none of that now.” Gabriel used a mellow tone, which drew everyone's attention. Nemamiah was trembling and tears were welling up in here eyes. Castiel moved over to her and scooped her up into his arms as naturally as a fish to water and sat in the very seat she'd been sitting in.

 

“Hush, now,” Castiel soothed, his fingers petting the dense ball of feathers on her back. Nemamiah settled, her arms squeezing around Castiel's neck in a tight hug.

 

“I don't want to lie about who I am,” she murmured wetly. “I'm a nephilim. I was split from you and Dean is my dad...”

 

“And we know this, which is the important part.” Castiel looked a little strained with the squeeze, but didn't discourage her. “But in this case, we have to lie. Because we want you to be safe.” Her grip relaxed as she sniffled. Dean looked to Sam and Gabriel. Sam didn't look eager to intervene, but Gabriel leaned back, nodding slightly with the truth of the matter. Castiel leaned Nemamiah back and brushed his fingers through her hair before he touched her cheek, but Nemamiah didn't look anymore at ease about the situation.

 

Dean decided to clear a few things up, clapping his hands together before he walked over to them. “Alright, everything might be hard to digest.” Nemamiah looked up at Dean as he pulled a chair up to the two of them. “My dad always gave me and Sam some facts that are always true, no matter what.”

 

“Like what?” Nemamiah murmured, blinking her large eyes. 

 

“Like family always sticks together, no matter what.” Dean gave her a smile. “No matter if you're talking to an average Joe or dealing with a demon, that will always stay true.” Dean could see the little gears in her head start to move again and her eyes dried up. She nodded in understanding.

 

“And family isn't always blood related,” Sam chimed in, leaning his hands on the back of Gabriel's chair. “For example Bobby and Gabriel.” Gabriel and Castiel exchanged subtle glances before Gabriel sat up a little.

 

“As much as family ticks you off, you're stuck with them,” Gabriel put in. Sam raised a brow at Gabriel while Dean threw an annoyed look at the archangel. “What? Simple truth.”

 

“No matter what,” Castiel looked at Nemamiah, giving her a soft smile, “you are my daughter, and I love you.”

 

“Ditto for me,” Dean put in right after. Finally, Nemamiah returned a smile and nodded.

 

“And I love all of you,” She said.

 

Gabriel chuckled. “All aboard the love train.”

 

“Choo, choo.” Nemamiah shyly imitated a train engine and there was a variance of laughter from them all. 

 

“We'll work on the story on the road,” Dean said, ruffling her hair, which Castiel fixed afterwards. “I'm sure you'll get it with your little sponge brain.” 

 

“Okay.” Nemamiah said with significantly more ease than before, but she was still far from eager about it.


	65. Strategy Meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Episode 5.21, Two Minutes To Midnight.)

Things rolled down hill very quickly after a run in with Crowley to find the third horseman. Which they did find Pestilence, and Castiel cut the ring finger off himself. It was finally another step towards opening Lucifer's cage. Then the group had been called to Bobby's for the last horseman's location.

 

Nemamiah was in the kitchen, atop the chair that she used to get up to watch pies be made. She was at the stove and had volunteered to make everyone soup. It was canned tomato soup, but she remembered that Karen always mentioned that seasoning made the dish. Though while looking at about 2 dozen tins of spices and herbs, where were some that she was sure should not be put in soup; like wolfsbane and dried monkey's paw. She decided to stick with sweet, which was cinnamon, allspice, and she remembered Karen adding lots of basil to the lasagna. 

 

She had missed Bobby's house. It had devolved back to it's previously musty book stacked state, but it was better than finding another motel room. She couldn't quite get used to a new room every night and being confined in a car for several hours only made her antsy. She COULD fly, which was the most frustrating part, but both Sam and Dean preferred to have their 'feet on the ground'. 

 

After her reveal to Maggie, training had been brought back to focus, along with remembering all the details of their cover story. Castiel and Dean took turns teaching her about guns, knives, and the angel sword Castiel had. She also learned not to cut herself on the angel sword. Even a nick would send a jolt of pain stronger than a regular blade and light would shine through the flesh instead of blood. She felt as if her very grace or her soul was on fire. She decided then that she liked guns better, and she hadn't been too keen on them in the first place. They were loud and smelled of smoke, but she could hit things from far away and she could stay out of hand to hand combat. 

 

A demonic presence suddenly entered the house and Nemamiah stood very still, breath caught in her throat. She stood over the pot, grains of pepper still falling as she listened.

 

“Why did ya have ya take a picture?” Bobby's gruff voice came from the living room.

 

“Why did you have to use tongue?” The new person asked and Nemamiah hopped quietly from the chair. She tiptoed to the living room, the double doors were open enough to pass through. She just peeked out at a man in the dark clothes and tucked her wings at the sight of the stranger. She quivered, seeing the wispy face of the demon cloaked over the human puppet. Nemamiah had seen gods, whores, and zombies; Demons had to be her least favorite thing. Or perhaps that was just her prescribed notion from all the knowledge Castiel passed down to her. Castiel, Dean, Sam, Gabriel, and Bobby were sitting in the living room, staring at the demon, but made no move for a gun. The demon turned, red eyes focusing on Nemamiah, who jumped and Castiel moved in his seat to intervene, but Dean kept a hand on Castiel's arm, keeping him steady. “And what is this? You boys starting an orphanage?” Crowley raised a dark brow. Nemamiah swallowed and her wings lifted her from the kitchen. She landed behind where Castiel sat near Bobby's desk. Even with all of her parents' training, Nemamiah still felt the need to sneak off and hide behind her father when trouble arose. Castiel touched her arm, and Nemamiah eased as she half hid behind him. The demon raised his other brow curiously and chuckled with a deep British tone. “Interesting trick...”

 

“Crowley. Business,” Bobby growled, annoyed.

 

“And business is give Bobby his soul back.” Dean leered dangerously at Crowley, who tucked his phone away.

 

“Bobby's soul is insurance,” Crowley replied smoothly. “I do hope to live past Lucifer getting put back into his eternal time out. He'll get it back when you do your part.” Crowley gestured to the map. “Which right now, is getting Death's ring.”

 

“We still don't know what Pestilence started,” Sam said, turned in his chair to watch the demon.

 

Crowley's hand slid into the other flap of his coat and plopped a folded newspaper into Sam's lap. “Then you boys haven't doing very good research.” Sam picked up the paper and skimmed the front page. Nemamiah put her father's shoulder between her and eye contact with Crowley. The demon was staring a lot and she felt a little queasy, especially as her mind ran through different ways to kill one.

 

“Eyes off, Crowley.” Dean sounded ready to take out the demon knife.

 

“My curiosity betrays me.” Crowley shrugged his shoulders half-heartedly. “Cambion?”

 

Castiel took in a sharp breath, as though offended. “She is not part demon in any way.” 

 

Crowley gave a deep chuckle. “Oh, then is she yours? I didn't know angels could be so small.”

 

“You're much more nosy in person,” Gabriel said from the couch, being the only one to occupy it. Gabriel had been watching the conversation unfold since Crowley arrived. Crowley's attention turned to the lounging archangel.

 

“Yes, quite a large _entourage_ of misfits here,” Crowley said, eying Gabriel curiously. “And you are?”

 

“Call me Lee,” Gabriel said smoothly. 

 

Sam stood quickly, giving the newspaper a wave in Crowley's direction before Crowley could try to wiggle too much of his nose into their business. “Mind explaining what this has to do with Pestilence?” Crowley gave him a withering look.

 

“You're lucky you have your looks.” Crowley rolled his eyes and swiped the paper from Sam's hands. “Your little boyfriend, Bradly. Worked for Niveus Pharmaceuticals. Vaccine for the swine flu...” He waved the newly folded paper at them and smiled when both Sam and Dean got the look of revelation. 

 

“The croatoan virus.” Dean stood. 

 

“We have to stop it,” Sam said quickly and took the news paper back from Crowley's hand. The conversation dissolved into plans. Nemamiah listened and squeezed herself into the over crowded desk; between Bobby's chair and Castiel. She eyed Crowley between the gap of Dean and Sam but other wise stayed silent. She had a bad feeling as she listened to the plans and the arguing began when Dean disliked the idea of Sam going to Davenport while he went to Chicago. 

 

-

 

“Who's Bradly?” Gabriel finally asked while Sam was helping to load up ammunition into Bobby's van. He leaned against the open slide door as Sam paused, box in his arms. Sam lifted his eye brows before he saw the uncommon frown on Gabriel's face.

 

“I met him in college... He ended up being a demon.” Sam paused when Gabriel's frown remained. “Oh God, he was NOT my boyfriend. Crowley is just a dick.”

 

“Just wanted to make sure.” Gabriel shrugged, trying to brush off the shortly displayed jealousy.

 

“You could at least help load up,” Sam urged. Gabriel rolled his eyes and lifted the box that was packed with C4. “Easy with that,” Sam stressed. “That's-”

 

“Explosives, I _know_.” Gabriel set the box near the front. “This is a dumb plan.”

 

“It's the best plan,” Sam insisted. “You didn't come up with anything better.”

 

“With Crowley butting in I was a little restricted.” Gabriel eyed the house, where Sam was sure he could sense the demon. “Knowing who I am would be very good leverage for him.” Sam paused and nodded. Crowley would probably love to know that an injured archangel was traveling with the Winchesters. “I hope all of them can keep their mouths shut.”

 

“I'll let Dean know,” Sam said. “That way they won't slip.” Lee was the first alias that Sam knew Gabriel by. The janitor what showed Sam and Dean the college years ago. Sam could easily modify Gabriel's alias for Lee to be a hunter helping them. “Miah's getting good with being quiet.”

 

“Good. It'll help for if she lives.” Gabriel hopped onto a safe box in the truck. Guilt swelled in Sam as he looked at Gabriel, who was eying him still with the uneasy look. Sam knew they were closing in to the last stand. He still had no other plan besides jumping in the cage with Lucifer. “I'm still not up to fighting speed.”

 

“I know,” Sam said automatically, even though he didn't really know. Gabriel was walking less stiff. His wound had closed weeks ago. When Gabriel helped Castiel, it seemed to be a minor delay when compared to seeing Gabriel in the coma. He wondered how much healing Gabriel still had to do. “How... much would you say you've healed?”

 

“Oh...” Gabriel looked at his hands and clenched them into fists. “I have about as much grace as a watcher-angel.” Sam blinked, in thought.

 

“Isn't... erm, wasn't Cas a watcher?” Sam remembered Castiel had been very formidable. That in itself seemed like a lot of power. 

 

“Yup.” Gabriel folded his hands together. “It's not much, but I think I can help with the virus problem.” Sam held his breath and nodded. He didn't even want to imagine how many angels it took to equal an archangel's full capacity. 

 

“Trust me, I think it'll be enough.” Sam sat on the floor of the open van door, having packed all that Bobby had.

 

“I called back up anyway,” Gabriel said as he stretched his arms up. Sam paused and leaned back on his hands to look at Gabriel.

 

“What... kind of back up?” Sam asked. Gabriel's mouth creased into a smile. He leaned over where Sam sat.

 

“You'll see.” Gabriel kissed Sam's lips. Sam closed his eyes, wondering what kind of back up Gabriel had summoned. He wondered how many back up plans Gabriel could have. Sam was also only able to enjoy Gabriel's kiss for a few moments.

 

“Not in my van!” Bobby snapped, standing on his porch. Sam covered his mouth as Gabriel pulled back with a grumble. Bobby had just gotten his legs back and had been a happy camper. The wheel chair was turned over in one of the junk piles, showing Bobby's disdain for the time he spent in it.

 

“It's the end of the world and you're still worrying about where the hell we kiss?” Gabriel frowned as Bobby walked over, keys in hand.

 

“My van, my rules.” Bobby got into the driver's seat. “Let's go. The sooner we get there, the sooner we can stop another zombie apocalypse.”

 

“Right.” Sam slid to his feet and put his hand on the sliding door handle. “I just have to tell Dean something before we go.”

 

“Hurry up.” Bobby grumbled and Sam shut the door. Dean was standing by the Impala and Crowley was in the passenger seat, making himself at home and completing the crosswords puzzle in the news paper. 

 

“Dean.” Sam tugged at his brother's sleeve, nodding closer to Bobby's van. Dean went with him several paces before they stopped. “Bobby's eager to get going.”

 

“Yeah, I got that.” Dean sighed. “Cas is inside, prepping Miah with a few weapons.” Sam shrugged awkwardly. Castiel didn't like Crowley being there and Nemamiah didn't warm up to the demon either.

 

“And...” Sam quick glanced at Crowley, who was glancing periodically from his seat. “Lee is a hunter we met and he's helping us out.” Sam nodded to the van and Dean got it, nodding.

 

“Yeah, ixnay on the Abrielgay. Got that from our little strategy meeting,” Dean said in a whisper. Sam nodded.

 

“Good luck in Chicago.” Sam went back to the truck and got in the passenger side door. 

 

Dean watched the van go and Castiel came out with Nemamiah at that time. 

 

“They left already?” Nemamiah asked with a frown as she reached Dean. Dean scooped her up in his arms and nodded.

 

“Yup, they're pressed for time.” Dean looked to Castiel, who had a sawed off shot gun in hand instead of a hand gun. “So are we.” He put a hand on Castiel's arm, squeezing it. “Let's keep quiet around the nosy demon. Last thing we need is him to find out about our friend Lee or Miah.”

 

“So it's Uncle Lee now?” Nemamiah sighed, sounding annoyed with the name changing.

 

“Yeah. So let's get practice our singing on the way down. How about that?” Dean walked over towards the car and Castiel rested his hand on Dean's forearm as they reached the driver's side.

 

“Dean, before we go, I want to give something to you,” Castiel said firmly. Dean watched Castiel pull his hand out from his trench coat pocket, having the ring that he's sliced from Pestilence's hand. Dean frowned, confused, at least until Castiel slid it onto Dean's ring finger on the hand that held Nemamiah against him. The dark silver and green stone stuck out on his skin.

 

“Uh... well...” Dean wasn't exactly sure what to say. At least Castiel hadn't gotten on one knee. That would have been a little much at the moment.

 

“I have not had a symbol to cement our relationship,” Castiel explained, taking Dean's other hand in his and squeezing it. “Our lives are going very fast and I'd like to lay my claim before we go to see Death himself.” Dean squeezed the hand back automatically, though he was a little lacking of words for a moment.

 

“We haven't even gotten the last ring yet,” Dean ended lamely and Castiel shrugged a bit stiffly, his thumb running over Dean's knuckles.

 

“I know you're not eager to make bonds in time of war, but I'd rather make ties now,” Castiel said quietly. “In case things don't go as planned.”

 

“Hey don't start talking like that-” Dean started but little fingers pressed to his mouth and he remembered Nemamiah was right here.

 

“Daddy, you're supposed to say, 'Castiel, I love you and accept your symbol of love'.” Nemamiah said knowingly and Dean smiled before he pulled her fingers away.

 

“I was getting to that, half pint.” Dean leaned forward, giving Castiel a kiss. “Of course I accept it.” Castiel smiled a little, looking less nervous. “But you know, I'm waiting because when this is done we won't have to worry about the devil or angels chasing our asses.” Castiel's smile turned bitter.

 

“You make it sound as though stopping the apocalypse will bring eternal peace.” Castiel sighed. Dean squeezed Castiel's hand and hugged Nemamiah closer in his arm. She was actually getting a bit heavy from holding her in one spot for too long.

 

“I'm not looking for peace, Cas. I'm just looking to... you know.” Dean shrugged, hoping Castiel would get his passing meaning. Castiel looked at him, blinking. Because no, he get it and Dean sighed. “You, me, Miah, white picket fence. Something like that.” Castiel blinked and looked as tough he was coming around. Nemamiah too. But a throat cleared from behind them. Crowley had the newspaper tucked under his arm and he had both very unamused eyebrows raised at them.

 

“As sickeningly sweet as the family bonding is, we have somewhere to be, yeah?” Crowley gestured to the Impala and Dean sighed, heart thudding against his ribs from the small heart attack Crowley had just given him.

 

“Chicago,” Nemamiah answered and Dean walked to the Impala, face red because Castiel giving him a damn ring had made him forget about the annoying demon hitching a free ride to Illinois.

 

“Let's go and rope ourselves the last horse,” Dean muttered, letting Nemamiah onto her feet before he got into the Impala. He had Death's scythe beside him on the seat and he took a deep breath. He wondered if it would be too much to see if Death would just GIVE him the ring.


	66. Mega Nephilim

[Davenport, Iowa.]

 

The door to the warehouse banged open after Sam shot the lock off the door and a rush of workers darted out. None of them were attacking his throat so he could only assume they were healthy and coatoen free.

 

“Oh great, this will be fun to sort through,” Gabriel griped, a spare shot gun resting on his shoulder, showing he had no intention for using the fire arm that Bobby had all but thrown in his face.

 

“Feel free to say what's what,” Bobby said as he followed Sam into the building.

 

“Well that's a demon.” Gabriel pointed as one man rushed Sam and Sam in turn stabbed the chest with the demon knife. The silence after a flash-fried demon was interrupted by the sounds of teeth grinding through flesh. Sam looked up, seeing a mob of unmistakable croatoen infected mob munching on a dead corpse. Sam's stomach clenched uncomfortably, especially when the infected lifted their attention to the fresh meat in the warehouse. “And they...”

 

“Gabriel, I _know,_ ” Sam hushed harshly and opened fire on one of the lunging people. Bobby started pulling the trigger as well. Gabriel, on the other hand, tossed Bobby's gun aside for his angel blade, slicing one man right up the middle and with the next motion slit the throat of a woman who had snuck up behind. Once there was a moment free of blood shed, Sam glanced at Gabriel, who was making a disgusted face as he wiped blood on the rough uniform of a fallen human.

 

“What do you know, he can hold his own,” Bobby said and Gabriel threw the old hunter an amused look.

 

“Oh look, you're not crippled again, that's a relief,” Gabriel said. Sam sighed, but was grateful that Gabriel was able to help. He'd only seen a glimpse of Gabriel's sword usage, and that was when he was facing Lucifer. Sam took quiet steps into the warehouse, wanting to make sure there were no more people that they could get out of there.

 

Sam turned a corner, hearing a scuffle and a short gasp of panic from somewhere among the scaffolding. A man was being attacked by an infected woman and Sam lifted his gun, pulling the trigger. He saw it hit the woman but then he was knocked forward. Something had hit him from above. He turned immediately, lifting his gun to put between him and the infected man's gnawing mouth.

 

Sam shoved the gun butt into the other's head and Sam was startled when there was a sudden shadow over him and a swipe of scaly jaws lifted the weight of the man from him. Sam lay stock still for a moment, watching the outline of a serpent toss its head back and the body slid down the gullet of a giant snake. Sam's body refused to move for a moment, shocked as he watched the bronzed head lower and a bright, intelligent, golden eye focused in on Sam. Massive snake had to be an understatement. The head resembled more of an ancient dragon. A long curved maw stretched up it's face in a permanent smirk. Horns atop the head curled back and a long mane of dark blonde hair trailed down its spine from it's head and also a long beard started at it's jaw.

 

“Shit...” Sam wondered if a bullet could even get through the thick hide or if it would just piss the beast off. A long, ropey red tongue slithered from the space between it's lips and it wafted the stench of death and the sea over Sam's face. Sam held his breath and gripped his gun tighter but the maw did not open for him. Instead he heard a strange, distant chuckle in the back of his mind and it turned it's head, slithering to where the man was frozen, also staring at the snake. The infected woman was twitching, at least until the sharp embedded teeth crunched down on her and she disappeared along with the man from before. There was then a swift slither backwards and Sam wasn't sure how a body that could take up nearly the space between the scaffolding could move so nimbly. But within the seconds, the beast disappeared, letting out a hiss that sounded much more than a shush for silence.

 

Sam shakily stood but it seemed more than what the man could do. Sam took the man's arm and lead him back to the entrance of the warehouse, where Bobby and Gabriel were guarding the door against any escaping infected. Once the man was out, Sam turned on Gabriel.

 

“What in the WORLD did you do?” Sam felt like that was the first breath he'd taken since he'd seen the gigantic snake.

 

“Hm?” Gabriel's arms were folded and a smile hinted at his lips. “Did you meet the back up?”

 

“Is that... that isn't... the gian-gigantic snake...” Sam felt his hands shaking. Bobby stood, looking confused.

 

“Jormy?” Gabriel asked and then nodded. “Yeah, I called him. He's pretty maneuverable.” Gabriel paused, looking at Sam's hard breathing form. “You don't look so good.”

 

“I was inches from being his next meal,” Sam hissed, his skin feeling clammy and cold. THAT was a nephilim? Half angel, half GIANT. Sam wasn't sure if he could safely say he'd seen it all, but this was damn close.

 

“Nah, I told him he could eat demons and demon infected brood. He knows the difference.” Gabriel watched Sam a minute before he touched Sam's arm gently, but Sam's body jumped all the same from it. “Trust me, Sam, he's not going to eat you.”

 

“Excuse me for being wary,” Sam muttered and swallowed. “WARN me about inviting your SON to raids.” Gabriel chuckled.

 

“Next time we go on a raid against the horseman's plan to destroy the world I'll let you know my son is coming.” Gabriel squeezed Sam's arm reassuringly.

 

“I hate your surprises,” Sam told him and forced himself to go back into the maze of boxes and equipment. He had to be sure there weren't any more people that were healthy. They were probably scared to death about a giant snake eating people if nothing else. Gabriel followed close behind.

 

“Sorry for not formally introducing you,” Gabriel said with somewhat reasonable sincerity. Sam shuttered.

 

“God... THAT was a nephilim?” Sam could hardly fathom Nemamiah being compared to that in any way.

 

“Short answer, yes.” Gabriel nodded.

 

“Long... answer?” Sam wasn't sure if he really wanted to know, but it popped out before he could stop it.

 

“Long answer, it's what a nephilim can become if they live long enough.” Gabriel tucked his sword under his arm and held his hands, measuring with his hands about the size of a basketball. “He used to be able to curl up _this_ small when he was little.” Sam gulped and wondered if that only pertained to archangel children with monster partners. Gabriel handled his sword in his hand again. “Of course, his original form is a snake, so what can you expect?”

 

“Is that a trick question?” Sam asked as he nearly stepped in a puddle of blood where a shaking woman was half way up a ladder in fear. Sam coaxed her down with a hand and guided her towards the exit.

 

“Might be,” Gabriel said thoughtfully. “I still haven't found an answer.”

 

Sam ushered several healthy humans out of the warehouse before they all deemed the warehouse clear and Bobby started setting up the C4. Sam looked around nervously for the monster of legend, but it's hulking form was no where in the aisles.

 

“How can it... he move like that?” Sam finally asked when his heart felt less like it was going to burst from his chest. “Isn't Jormungandr supposed to be long enough to encircle the world twice?”

 

“He is.” Gabriel confirmed, angel blade hidden again. “He wouldn't actually fit in this place. He uses worm holes to pop in and out from the sea.”

 

“Worm holes... great.” Sam swallowed uneasily. Gabriel shrugged and his eyes lifted up; up farther than he normally had to to look at Sam. Sam felt a salty breath on his head and he turned, finding the snake from earlier. Jormungandr, had slithered right out of the wall behind him and his head was lifted easily above Sam's height.

 

“Jormy!” Gabriel opened his arms in greeting and the smirk Jormungandr sported spread into a smile. There was a clank of tools as Bobby muttered breathless curses. Sam looked around to make sure Bobby wasn't being attacked, but no, Bobby was just staring at Jormangandr, much like Sam had been earlier. “You need to work on your entrances. You're going to end up being shot at.” Jormungandr's tongue slithered out in front of Sam, who backed up several more steps. A low rumble like a chuckle Sam knew so well left the beast's throat before Jormungandr's large nose pressed against Gabriel's chest. Gabriel returned the contact with a hug, but Gabriel's arms could barely make it around the whole snout of the beast. “Yeah, thanks for coming, Kiddo.” Jormungandr lifted his head and seemed to nod his head to Bobby and Sam before his body slid back and he disappeared into the wall, the last thing they heard being the sound of water swelling into a splash. Gabriel turned to them, smiling. “Okay. Are we done here now?” Gabriel asked.

 

Sam was first to clear his throat and patted Bobby's arm. “Once we finish wiring the explosives.” Bobby nodded dumbly for a moment but after a moment he shook his head, seeming to come back to himself.

 

“Damn angels...” Bobby grumbled, returning to his work. For once Sam had to agree, but he was certainly glad Gabriel and Jormungandr were on their side.


	67. The Key and The Plan

Dean sat at Bobby's picnic table, waiting for the croatoan-dispatch team to get back from Davenport. Crowley all but evaporated once his job was done in Chicago, which was fine by Dean. Castiel sat across from him, hands folded neatly on the aged wood. Dean held Death's ring in his fingers, inspecting it. The white stone held a chilly feeling and it didn't seem to gain warmth in his pocket or in his hand. Castiel watched, a forlorn look in his eyes. They'd had the grim discussion on the drive back; about the plan to let Sam jump into the pit. There wasn't much talking to do. There weren't really words to make Dean feel better about the agreement. 

 

Castiel's hands unclasped and they wrapped around Dean's fidgety fingers. Dean's hands stilled and were warmed. He heaved a large before he spoke. “Well... this is it, isn't it?”

 

Castiel nodded. “It is.” There was no other plan. It was the only one. Even the words 'there had to be another way' were just arid lie that crossed his mind. Death himself said there was only one way and he didn't seem the type of guy who tolerated broken agreements.

 

Castiel gently squeezed his hands, getting Dean's attention. Castiel said, “I don't want Nemamiah at the battle field.”

 

Dean nodded. “Me either.”

 

“Bobby?” Castiel suggested

 

“I don't know if he'll stay,” Dean sighed. Bobby was gung-ho about seeing the apocalypse to the end with them. Castiel frowned as he started to play with Dean's fingers, his focus on Pestilence's ring. Dean knew Castiel was waiting for the returned commitment. And Dean was tempted, he really was. But Death had also spied Dean's ring and the cryptic words of allowing Dean to borrow the ring echoed in his head. Dean wasn't giving a borrowed ring to Castiel. “We'll figure something out,” Dean muttered. Castiel nodded. It always felt better to make plans. Better than sitting and letting the wait kill them.

 

Nemamiah came out of Bobby's house with a couple bowls in hand. And how she entered into the locked house was with her simple flying act; popping into the house with little effort. “Soup,” she announced proudly, presenting them each with the concoction she'd been working on the day before. It looked more like a chilli-tomato soup mix with chunks of vegetables floating in it.

 

“Thanks, Sunshine.” Dean took his bowl and Castiel took his as well. She disappeared again silently, coming back within moments with spoons and her own bowl.

 

“When will they be back?” Nemamiah took a seat next to Dean at the table.

 

“Sam's last text indicated that they'll be here within the hour,” Castiel said as he stirred his soup. Dean took an experimental spoonful into his mouth and he grimaced from the odd twinge of tomato and cinnamon. It wasn't the worst thing he'd eaten, but he'd definitely have to teach Nemamiah about cooking.

 

If they survived the apocalypse.

 

“Is it good?” She asked with a hopeful tone.

 

“Ah...” Dean looked at Castiel, who had also had his first bite. Castiel looked perturbed, as though unable to pin point the strangeness in the dish. Dean looked back to his daughter. “Might be missing something. Does Bobby have any chili powder in there?”

 

“I'll check!” Nemamiah chirped and was gone within a blink of the eye. Dean looked to Castiel.

 

“Don't tell her it tastes bad,” Dean said. Castiel blinked.

 

“If nothing is said, how can she improve?” Castiel asked, letting the second spoonful dribble back into the bowl.

 

“Because, it's the first time she's made anything by herself,” Dean said under his breath. He remembered gritting his teeth when Sam made his first burnt grilled cheese sandwich as kids. “I'll teach her how to make good food if we survive walking up to Lucifer and offering Sam as a good will gift.” Castiel made a bitter face that was used more more for their impending doom rather than the odd tasting stew. Dean would gladly show Nemamiah around a kitchen once Lucifer was back in the ground.

 

Nemamiah appeared with two armful of spices... and some things that were not spices. “He has these. I didn't see any chilli powder.”

 

“Eh, figures he doesn't,” Dean said and set the bottles and jars on the table before her. Dean picked up one of them, which looked like dried crows feet. “And these really aren't for eating.” She put back the ones he deemed unqualified for eating before Dean added a small heap of salt and onion powder into his bowl.

 

“Father, how is my soup?” Nemamiah finally asked once she returned again. Dean gave Castiel a raised brow. Castiel cleared his throat, looking at his daughter.

 

“It's very... edible,” Castiel finished lamely and Dean sympathetically passed Castiel the salt, which Castiel returned to him an appreciative gaze. Nemamiah smiled, taking it as a compliment as she began to eat. Of course she ate her own dish with no complaint or odd looks.

 

Bobby's van pulled up to the back of the lot where they were finishing the last of the soup and denying more, claiming fullness. “Thank god,” Dean muttered with great relief. Sam was the first one out and Nemamiah was up to him in a heartbeat.

 

“How'd it go?” She asked. “Dad said you stopped the virus.”

 

“Well...” Sam shrugged, hefting a duffel bag of supplies from the open side door where Gabriel was just climbing out.

 

“Swimmingly,” Gabriel filled in. “Jormy visited.” Nemamiah blinked briefly.

 

“You son?” She asked and Gabriel patted her hair, smiling.

 

“Sharp memory you got there, Kiddo,” Gabriel praised.

 

“Aw, I didn't get to meet him.” Nemamiah pouted. “What's he like?”

 

“Big.” Sam walked over to the picnic table. “Really, really big.” Dean raised an eyebrow.

 

“The huge snake one, right?” Dean asked.

 

“Yeah.” Sam let out a huge breath, looking winded from the experience. “I think his head was the size of a small whale.” 

 

Dean let out a long whistle. “So Mega Snake waltzed into town?”

 

“No... he used a wormhole from the ocean.” Sam shrugged. Gabriel walked up after Sam and wrapped an arm around his waist. He looked pretty smug.

 

“I taught him that.” Gabriel grinned. Sam looked mildly annoyed.

 

“Maybe I wouldn't have nearly had a heart attack if you'd told me he was your back up,” Sam quipped.

 

“It was supposed to be a sneak attack.” Gabriel shrugged. 

 

Bobby was carrying a box of supplies inside when he spied their soup bowls. “Did you break into my house to get soup?” Bobby asked with a frown. 

 

Dean pointed to Nemamiah, who had just given Bobby a hug hello. “She IS part angel, Bobby.” 

 

Bobby sighed and went to his door with a key. Nemamiah followed him with her empty bowl and asked if Bobby wanted some soup as they went inside.

 

“So,” Sam said and looked to Dean. “The ring?” Dean flashed Death's ring at them.

 

“Got the last one,” Dean said, some solemnness returning to the conversation.

 

“You turned the other into some bling.” Gabriel pointed out with a knowing grin and Dean's face warmed considerably, feeling Castiel's eyes on him.

 

“Point is, we have them all,” Dean stated and placed Death's ring on the table. He wiggled Pestilence's ring on his finger and looked to Castiel, because really, they couldn't have the rings on and used them. They weren't the Planeteers or anything.

 

“It's alright, Dean,” Castiel told him, his hands folding together; still ringless. “They are to make the key.” Dean nodded and placed the ring with its brother. Sam glanced at Gabriel before taking off Famine's ring, adding it to the pile.

 

Gabriel's fingers closed around War's ring, but thoughtfully, he twisted it before he asked. “What's the plan?”

 

Dean grimaced. “The only plan we got. Death... he only handed over the ring if Sam drags Lucifer into the pit with him.” Sam stiffed and glanced at Gabriel, who lost all good expression on his face.

 

“What?” Gabriel asked, his voice strangely monotone.

 

“Sam's plan, to gain power over Lucifer and lock them in the cage,” Castiel filled in helpfully. Sam had a look of silent horror upon his face; as though it was another relieved secret. Gabriel's eyes flicked up to Sam.

 

“Oh, so _that's_ been your big plan?” Gabriel asked, voice surprisingly chilled. “Doing exactly what I said you'd do?” It sort of occurred to Dean that Sam hadn't told Gabriel the plan.

 

“I was going to tell you,” Sam muttered in weak defense. Gabriel took several steps from them, growing louder.

 

“Oh I'm _sure_ your were. Right before you go right up to Lucifer and offer yourself up like a fresh sacrifice.” Gabriel clasped his hands together, tone lifting to a harsh banter. _“'Why yes, Lucy, I'd love to be your favorite puppet to help you end humanity and the world as we know_ it!' Just allow me to put on some REM for you two. It may as well be a fucking GOOD note that we all go out on.” Gabriel fumed, fists clenched tight at his sides. Sam took a deep breath, collecting his thoughts.

 

“I didn't think it would happen at first,” Sam defended. “I wish there was another way. I wish there _was_ a back up plan.”

 

“Oh, and when did you decide this was a good fucking plan?” Gabriel asked sharply.

 

“If I can get control for just a few moments, then I can can put Lucifer in the cage. I can stop the apocalypse. I can _save_ everyone,” Sam said with a certain desperation that gave Dean a chill down his spine. He kept his mouth shut though, because he hated this plan as much as Gabriel was venting. But they'd looked and found no alternative.

 

“Well news flash:” Gabriel cupped his hands around his mouth, making him as loud as a megaphone. “ _Sam Winchester never makes it to the_ pit! He ends up eternally the vessel of a fallen archangel that brings the real meaning of Hell On Earth to the humans he wants to save.” Dean remembered Sam's body, walking around in a white suit with Lucifer inside. Dean swallowed, hoping again that this future would be different, like it was for Nemamiah.

 

“Death seems to think it'll turn out different,” Dean finally said, as firmly as possible. “It's the only way.”

 

“Well, Frankly, Death can go shiv himself,” Gabriel spat.

 

“Do you have an alternative plan?” Sam asked, his own accusation tone cutting into Gabriel's anger. Gabriel folded his arms and straightened his back.

 

“Of course I do,” Gabriel said. “We let Michael and Lucifer duke it out in their half assed vessels. Then we push the winner into the cage.”

 

“Hundreds of thousands of people will die if they skirmish,” Castiel stated with a deep frown.

 

“It's better than the whole species going extinct in a decade,” Gabriel argued.

 

“Gabriel...” Sam pleaded shortly before Gabriel pointed a finger at Sam.

 

“I don't condone you becoming Lucifer's, and you _will_ be if you do this,” Gabriel said, voice lower, more dangerous. “You said not to hold your unmade decisions against you. But guess _what_. You made them anyway. Just like I said you would. And shame on me for falling for your sad fucking eyes.” Sam pursed his lips as Gabriel silently seethed. Sam swallowed, eyes getting that watery texture that Dean knew so well.

 

“If I can prevent any death from the apocalypse, then I'll do it,” Sam stated. “I can't just hide and hope they'll fight.” Sam put a hand to his own chest. “I started this. I have to finish it. It's... it's my decision.” The last words seemed to hurt Sam, but they seemed to have a deeper impact on Gabriel. The archangel's hands pulled his own hair in frustration, an angry growl permeated the small enclosed area.

 

“Well you've never listened to me before, why would you start now?” Gabriel snapped suddenly and pulled the ring off his finger. He held up the ring to show it to Sam before he threw it at him, the metal pinging off of Sam's chest. Sam flinched and rubbed over his heart, where Dean didn't doubt that Gabriel had given a bit of angel oomph to the toss. Gabriel shoved his hands into his pockets and turned away, stalking away into Bobby's Auto Lot. 

 

Sam watched him for a minute before he bent down to pick up the ring. Dean stood at the table, watching Sam. “You okay there, Sammy?”

 

“I'm okay.” Sam's voice was hallow. He dropped the ring on the table with the others and war's ring drew in the others like a magnet, completing the strange key that they needed. Sam slowly sat at the table next to Castiel, looking floored. 

 

“You two need to talk, or something?” Dean asked and Sam shook his head, composing himself.

 

“No,” Sam said before he cleared his throat. “He needs to cool down.” His eyes focused on the key. Dean looked to the kitchen window where the fight had drawn Bobby's attention to the window. Nemamiah on the other hand was at the back door, having just flown there to see the end of the disagreement. “Where do we start?” Dean hated seeing that wounded expression on Sam's face and glared after Gabriel, who was gone.

 

“We're going to need Demon's blood,” Castiel was the first to speak. “Gallons of it.” Dread filled Dean's gut; because he completely understood why Gabriel hated the plan. They were both selfish bastards.


	68. Plans and Promises

Plans were made; discussed until the sun went down. Nemamiah's soup was consumed to the best of their abilities and it was decided that in the morning they would set out and collect demon blood before finding Lucifer. Castiel walked out into the dark with a flashlight in hand, looking for Gabriel, who hadn't returned. Sam had been uncharacteristically fidgety since the argument and looked out the window on occasion for the archangel. Castiel doubted Gabriel had gone far; he was still healing and if he'd been going far, he would have flown instead of stalked. Castiel had volunteered to look for him; he had something to discuss with Gabriel.

 

The auto lot was large and street lamps could illuminate most of the yard. But for finer detail of broken vehicles and scrapped parts were better left to the LED light Dean had let him borrow. The eerie sounds of creatures living among the debris bothered Castiel little. What drew his attention was the disarray in one isle of the lot. Bobby's yard was rather tidy in terms of a junk lot, so finding the stack of usable tires strewn about as though a child had a temper tantrum gave a sort of trail to follow towards Gabriel. Castiel warily climbed over the tires and a couple over turned cars, looking between two large scaffolding racks; where salvageable cars sat. 

 

He would have missed the archangel if he'd not been habitually scanning upwards. The light picked up a pair of white sneakers and denim clad legs dangling out over the edge of a Classic Chevrolet Convertible. The red paint was chipped. Castiel could also see that the wheels and engines were stripped, sitting on the top level of the scaffolding.

 

“Gabriel, I see you,” Castiel said.

 

“Goody for you.” Gabriel's legs pulled back into the car before he leaned an arm out the side from the back seat. He looked down at Castiel. “Shouldn't you be spending time with your family? Armageddon is tomorrow.” Castiel clicked off the flashlight for the moment. The lamps were enough to see by since he'd located Gabriel.

 

“Shouldn't you be spending time with Sam?” Castiel countered. Gabriel gave him a sour look and pulled himself out of Castiel's view.

 

“He's made his choice,” was Gabriel's bitter reply.

 

Castiel sighed. He had not come to argue that point. “I wanted to have a word with you. Separate from your issue with the plan. Will you come down and talk with me?” There was a pause before a hand gestured for him to climb up.

 

“How about you get your ass up here? Then we can talk.” Gabriel's snark reply made Castiel sigh again. He mapped the best path with the flashlight before he stored it in the seat of his pants. He used several other cars to climb and was sure Gabriel was making him come to him because he was in a bad mood. Two levels later Castiel was more winded than he wished to be and he was stuck hanging under the side of the car Gabriel sat in. Gabriel chuckled at him a moment, but he took pity and leaned over the side to grasp Castiel's hands. He hauled Castiel effortlessly into the back of the car with him. Castiel had a flash of jeaoulsy because Gabriel still had his grace so he should not have been taking pleasure in Castiel's stress. 

 

The white leather seat was worn with age and and open to elements. Castiel's nose wrinkled, because frankly, it was not fit for humans to sit in anymore. Gabriel seemed at home though; especially when Max jumped up in the front seat, his paws over the head rest to snuff at Castiel. The car creaked dangerously with their movement until Castiel sat next to the other man, taking a moment to catch his breath.

 

Gabriel smiled, leaning his elbow on the back seat. “Nice digs, huh?”

 

“Those aren't the words I'd use,” Castiel said.

 

“I was thinking, when I heal up, I'll take it off Bobby's hands. Restore it. Go native and nomadic while the world falls apart.”

 

Castiel frowns. “I thought you were done running away.”

 

“As much as I'd like to be a martyr -again-, I really like that concept of... oh, what do you call it?” Gabriel snapped his fingers together in faux puzzlement. “Survival.” Max laid down in the bucket seat, paws laying between the seats to watch them and his jaws opened to give a squeaky whine-yawn. Castiel pursed his lips. As much as Castiel despised running away; the thought had been more appealing as the hours ticked by. Gabriel was blissfully silent for a moment before his head tilted back to gaze at the stars. “I enjoyed it, you know?” Castiel looked at him curiously. Gabriel continued without prompting. “Being on the road with you guys; acting like one big dysfunctional family. Heaven never felt quite like it.” Castiel stared at Gabriel a moment before he turned his gaze upwards, towards their first home.

 

“I agree,” he said and let out a somber breath. “Heaven still doesn't.” Not even his garrison had been so close as they had all been over the past weeks. The suns in other galaxies looked like pinpricks in the black sky. It was humbling now, only able to see them from mortal's eyes. “Nemamiah is not accompanying us to Detroit.”

 

“Smart.” Gabriel approved with a nod. “Both Lucifer and Michael would tear her limb from limb.” Castiel nodded. The simple snap of their fingers, either archangel could dispatch his little girl without a thought. She was still just an abomination in their eyes.

 

“In case you're correct, and Sam isn't strong enough...” Castiel looked back to Gabriel, who also drew his eyes from from the universe. “If Dean and I die in the skirmish, I ask that you take Nemamiah with you.” Gabriel stared quietly at him a minute. Castiel knew that it was likely that he and Dean would die... and he wanted Nemamiah, more than anyone, to survive. More than himself and even more than Dean, he needed his daughter to live.

 

“Are you appointing me as her god father?” Gabriel asked, a slight smile creased his face.

 

“If, and only if, Dean and I are dead,” Castiel said firmly, but then he softened his tone. “You've raised nephilim before and you said your primary goal is to survive. And I want Nemamiah to live.” Gabriel slowly nodded. “If we fail, I want you to raise her. If you...” Castiel throat refused to work for a moment, tears building in his eyes. He closed them and took a calming breath. “She has the knowledge she needs, but she needs more training, and guidance.” Luckily Gabriel didn't needle his inability to properly train Nemamiah. He was asking because Gabriel was the only angel he could trust with Nemamiah's training. He no longer had the ability to teach her the fine details of flying or train her for full strength combat. 

 

“I can look out for her and train her if you can't.” Gabriel nodded, serious for once, which eased Castiel's nerves. Castiel squeezed his fingers in his hand and silently prayed that God would watch out for his little girl. Even if God was not the one who split him, he'd brought Castiel back before. Castiel gazed at Gabriel.

 

“You weren't lying about the possibility of our kinship?” Castiel had been looking so hard for his father for months. Every angel had the craving to know who they came from. It went unspoken and unanswered. The thought of Gabriel as his sire was frightening and hopeful at the same time. He wasn't sure if it would help answer any of his questions or satisfy any feeling of abandonment that was seared into his heart. But the question still plagued him.

 

Gabriel rested a hand on Castiel's arm, a soft smile on his face that Castiel could only imagine being fatherly. “Kiddo, I wouldn't lie about something as important as family.” Gabriel took a deep breath. “Tell you what, if you're right, and Sam saves the world and your survive, I'll do a little brain diving and we'll find out. If you don't, then I suppose we'll never know.” Castiel nodded somberly and Gabriel sat back, stretching his arms up. “But you need to survive, and I need to get back to a full tank. I really can't be using the last of my grace before the final countdown.” Castiel nodded but at the same time felt somewhat hollow. 

 

“I understand,” Castiel said. The quiet of the night brought the summer crickets to full chirp and the thought of tomorrow. “Hypothetically, if all goes well, Sam will be in the cage.” Gabriel nodded but had a bitter expression in place. “Is it possible, that if we win, an angel could raise him from perdition?”

 

Gabriel sighed. “Well don't you have a hopeful outlook on the matter.” Gabriel shook his head. “An angel would have to wrestle Sam from Lucifer. Key to the cage or not.” Gabriel rolled his eyes when Castiel stared, expecting a more concrete answer. “ _Theoretically_ , yeah, it's possible. You have to be fast though. Considering the damage Lucifer will do to the soul he's trapped there with. The best time to surprise him is right after he's put back. But fantasizing on what won't happen won't do us any good.”

 

“Would you rescue Sam if he succeeded?” Castiel asked.

 

“In a heartbeat,” Gabriel said without hesitation. “For once, I'd love to save that man from his own damned decisions.” Castiel smiled, just a little. It was good to know Gabriel would be there to save Dean's brother from the cage. Gabriel let out a sigh. “I should kidnap him. Put him in a sleep that he wouldn't wake until they were done with their pissing fit. But I know he'd never forgive me for it.”

 

“None of us would,” Castiel agreed with a nod.

 

“So glad you're on my side,” Gabriel said with heavy sarcasm. “But the fact is that I could.”

 

“Yes, you could.” Castiel smiled, just a little.

 

“Stupid...” Gabriel looked up and he could have been addressing the situation, Sam, or God himself.

 

“You're going to see him off at least, aren't you?” Castiel asked.

 

“It's usually easier if I don't,” Gabriel said solemnly. “He does this thing with his eyes. Sad, puppy-dog things that either make me want to do as he says or steal him away and never let him go.” Gabriel's temporary humor vanished quietly. “It's hard to see him go.”

 

Castiel let a respectful silence fall before he spoke. “You should see him. It may be the last time.”

 

Gabriel shook his head. “Nah, it's better this way.” Gabriel sighed and looked back towards Bobby's house, murmuring, “I wish I was wrong about this.”

 

Castiel nodded because so did he. He then stood before saying, “I'm going to prepare for tomorrow.” He climbed over the car door on the other side, where he saw it was safer to descend. He wanted to spend the rest of the night before Armageddon with his lover and daughter.

 

“Hey.” Gabriel leaned over the side of the car. Castiel paused for a moment. “Good luck.” Castiel nodded and climbed down to the ground. 

 

He hoped it wouldn't be as Gabriel predicted. He didn't want Gabriel to take his place as Nemamiah's father; but knowing she would be taken care of freed his mind from running away.

 

-

 

“Uncle Sam, you still look sad,” Nemamiah told him as she held out a full bowl to the table where Sam sat. “Have some more soup.” They had moved into Bobby's house as it got dark.

 

“No, thanks, Miah.” Sam heaved a breath. “I'm still full from the first bowl.” That first bowl was still half full to his left. Sam didn't have the heart to tell her he couldn't stand another bite. Not with the fact that Gabriel was still away and tomorrow he'd be gulping down demon blood. Not to mention the soup tasted a little funny. 

 

Nemamiah deflated and Dean ushered her back to the kitchen. “We can't finish the whole pot tonight, sunshine.”

 

“Tomorrow?” She asked, sipping from the bowl edge since she filled it a little full.

 

“Maybe,” Dean told her and she walked carefully back to the kitchen.

 

Sam sighed as Dean sat across from him. Tomorrow they would be collecting the demon blood. It was another promise he was breaking. There was no winning in this situation for him. He probably wouldn't see Gabriel again and that thought in itself was devastating enough.

 

“How you holding up, Champ?” Dean looked to him once he was confirming that Nemamiah was putting the soup back in the pot like he suggested earlier. 

 

“Peachie-keen,” Sam muttered, feeling like the worst person in the world. Would it have been better to tell Gabriel about his plan earlier or would Gabriel have left that much sooner? The past few weeks had been a blessing. They had all been cohabiting peacefully. Almost normally. He would have liked to live like that for a lifetime longer. “Hey, Dean,” Sam said, eyes drifted to the rhythmic steps of Bobby walking up and down the stairs. Sam didn't even bother wondering why Bobby was doing it.

 

“Hm?” Dean set a beer in front of Sam. Sam looked at it and drank a good mouthful of it. He might as well drink a bit that night.

 

“After I'm gone, you should marry Cas,” Sam said. He had never seen Dean happier than with his little family; playing dad to a nephilim and loving Castiel.

 

Dean's expression tightened. “Sam...”

 

“I mean it,” Sam said firmly. “After the apocalypse is averted, you deserve to settle down. Take Miah to a real school where she can make some friends. You and Cas can have as much loud sex as you want.” A laugh was startled out of Dean.

 

“Yeah, well...” Dean's expression turned somber because he wasn't allowed to say 'no, don't start talking like that, you're not going to die' lines. Sam was going to say yes and it was death in one way or the other.

 

“Don't go looking for a way to bring me back,” Sam said. He couldn't handle another year that Dean sold his soul for. “Promise me.” Dean gave him a look that said it was the last thing he wanted to make a promise about.

 

“Yeah... I promise,” Dean grumbled and drank his own beer bitterly.


	69. No More Tears

“I don't want to stay here,” Nemamiah said loudly. Both Dean and Castiel finally told her what the next plan of action was and she was not happy. “I want to go with you. I can defend myself.”

 

“I know you can.” Castiel was crouching before her and Dean was close by. The Impala was packed and Sam watched from leaning against the passenger side door. They'd had to explain they were going to beat the devil but to do it, Sam had to say yes to Lucifer and she had tears in her eyes as her little computer brain was figuring out what it all meant. “But it is the absolute last place you need to be. You'll be safer here with Gabriel.”

 

“But what about y _ou?_ ” She asked. It was painful enough for Sam to watch as tears trickled down her face freely. He couldn't imagine what it was doing to Castiel's heart. He was already having a difficult time soothing her and the man had an uncommon pained expression on his face.

 

“We'll be back in two days, tops.” Dean crouched down as well. Dean sounded confident. That 100% confidence where Sam knew he was lying. Sam took a deep breath; he might not be strong enough to hold Lucifer back. The weight of it felt like it was crushing his lungs. “If you think the devil is going to get the better of Sam then you still got a lot to learn, squirt.” Nemamiah sucked in a very loud sob and threw her arms around Dean's neck, squeezing him tight. Dean hugged her back until Sam was sure that Dean was patting her back so he could get oxygen back into his lungs.

 

She finally let go of Dean and ran up to Sam, throwing her arms around his waist, hugging him with bruising force. Sam gave her a squeeze back and her eyes were renewed with tears when she pulled back.

 

“It's okay,” Sam assured her, trying to fill the air so she didn't _say_ something. It only made the whole goodbye thing harder. “We're going to help people.”

 

“I don't want to say goodbye,” she whimpered. Sam was so relieved when Castiel guided her away. He just wanted to GO because this was just unbearable. Even Bobby had been merciful and just gotten into his truck. Of course, Bobby was going with them, so he'd probably say something then. He was almost glad Gabriel hadn't showed up or he may really change his mind. 

 

“No more crying,” Castiel demanded calmly, wiping his sleeve over her eyes. She sniffled, trying to stop. It was clear she was having a hard time of it. “No more. We are doing this for a better future. It is an honor to stand up for what is right and for what you believe in. There is no need to shed tears.” Nemamiah looked down, her sobbing thankfully stopped. But it was more or less Nemamiah holding her breath to calm herself.

 

Max yipped at Sam's feet, startling him and everyone else. Sam took a deep breath and crouched down, petting his head. “Hey boy. Did you come to say bye for Gabriel?” Max seemed to be the only happy one there, sitting down for his ears to be rubbed.

 

“Nah, he just got here before me,” Gabriel said from the other side of the Impala. Sam stood, eyes veering in on the archangel that rested his hands on the top of the car.

 

“I... didn't think you'd show your face,” Sam admitted. His feet were rooted to the spot for a moment before Gabriel gave a little shrug. That was enough to uproot Sam and his feet drove him around the car, heart thudding dangerously. He already wanted to stay. He would take one more day on earth; just to spend it with Gabriel.

 

“Hey, hey, slow down.” Gabriel placed a firm hand on Sam's chest, halting him from doing anything dramatic, like the last kiss that Sam wanted to do very badly. “Just wanted you to tell Lucy that he's a great big bag of dicks for me.” Sam swallowed wetly, taking a moment to gather himself. He could be composed for another goodbye. At least this one wouldn't be on terrible terms. The terms were still bad, but not _as bad_... Gabriel gave him a sad look, inclining his head slightly. “You know, if you kiss me, I'm not letting you go.” Sam wasn't really expecting the seriousness, but it was there and Sam felt like it was a last plead for him not to go. He knew Gabriel could just take him half way around the world, and Sam hated it because he wanted to stay but he couldn't live with himself. Gabriel just had to make everything so _hard_.

 

“I get it,” Sam agreed softly and instead, enveloped Gabriel in a tight hug. A hug he never wanted to let go of. Gabriel hugged him back, kind enough to leave him breathing room. Cruel enough to be there and making Sam question his responsibilities. Gabriel's jacket smelled like home and Sam had to push himself away. His lips pursed, knowing if the spoke, nothing good would come out. _Goodbye_ or _I love you_ would just break him.

 

They got into the Impala and Dean drove out of the lot, leaving Gabriel on the porch with Nemamiah, who was firmly hugging Max as she watched them go. Sam had his eyes closed for at least the first hour into the drive. 


	70. The Wait

The wait was the hardest. Gabriel teased Max with a toy rope. Blissful dog life, Max didn't understand what was going on. He sort of wished Nemamiah was the same because as much as he tried to engage her in play, she was a permanent fixture to the window in Bobby's library now now. It was as if she expected them back any minute.

 

“It's so quiet,” Nemamiah finally whispered as the hours crawled by like never ending limbo. Gabriel nodded, sitting in Bobby's chair with his feet up on the desk. Angel radio was silent, which was a bad sign. Not a peep was coming from any angel who was watching the showdown. Or soon to be show down.

 

“Yeah it is,” Gabriel quietly agreed.

 

That was probably the only real exchange they had in words. Night fell and Max was sleeping on the floor, snoring slightly from his jowls. Nemamiah had fallen asleep on the couch by the window and Gabriel covered her with a blanket.

 

At least when the world went south he wouldn't have to worry about just his own ass. Gabriel knew he got a bit reckless when just his own life was on the line. He could probably keep an eye on Dean and Cas for Sam if nothing else. Keep those two from doing something stupid. If they lived, Gabriel reminded himself. But pretty much everything turned stupid or rotten when Lucifer took over the world.

 

Strangely, he couldn't remember a reality where Nemamaiah was a nephilim. Gabriel looked at her and let out a deep breath. He wondered, for the briefest of moments, if it would be different this time.

 

Gabriel held that hope with a very large grain of salt; a grain the size of a mountain.

 

Gabriel spent the night, checking inventory on his grace. He maybe had the capacity of two full fledged angels. For him, he usually spent that much grace on making a mochachino with extra whip cream. He could fly effortlessly now. Making fire was no problem. He missed his creational powers, but they burned up grace like no tomorrow. He couldn't even make Bobby's TV into a flat screen anymore, and it sucked.

 

Reservation in case of an emergency. Gabriel scoffed, he could go for a mochachino about now... No, he could go for Sam right now. He wanted to just go and take Sam so he didn't have to wait for a damn call about whether Sam was Sam or Sam was Lucifer. He should have stayed in the Chevrolet instead of seeing him one last time and seeing those watery eyes. Why of all humans -literally billions of humans on God's great green marble- did it have to be Sam?

 

“Old man, your plans are fucked up,” Gabriel told God, hoping at least God was listening to his own prayers during his own damn apocalypse. “Love, Gabriel,” he added bitterly, just in case God forgot the archangels or something.

 

When morning came, Nemamiah at least became sentient. She personally fed Max and dished out some of her soup for breakfast and lunch.

 

“Why'd you let Uncle Sam go?” Nemamiah asked heavily as lunch crawled around. Gabriel didn't touch the soup that she'd offered him.

 

“Because Sam is so damn determined to save everyone,” Gabriel said. Nemamiah didn't look satisfied with the answer and Gabriel smiled a bit. “I've tried to force him to do what I want. It never works out how I like. He's a block head.”

 

“It's stupid,” Nemamiah stated. Gabriel chuckled, despite the bitter air. It only seemed to make her mood worse.

 

“I agree,” Gabriel said wistfully. Gabriel had never known a child to show such contempt while slurping soup, but Nemamiah managed it.

 

There was a sudden buzz, of voices in their air that could only belong to a chorus of angels gasping at global levels. Both Gabriel and Nemamiah jumped from it before a swarm of chatter rushed in to fill the senses. Max only looked at them with a puzzled quirk of the head. Gabriel's legs dropped from the desk and tried to pick out a full sentence from the clatter of Enochian. It was reminiscent to Gabriel, from several millennia go, when Michael first announced, _'Lucifer is in Hell's cage. Heaven has won'._ It was never cheer but a solemn announcement of victory. Gabriel had been on earth then, but it mattered not how far he was from the scene. It was not a gain for Heaven, it was a loss of a brother. Lucifer was no longer there to protest Michael's monopoly of new angels in law but Lucifer was also not there to destroy humanity.

 

“ _Lucifer and Michael have fallen into the cage!”_ Split the air in his native language. BOTH archangels were locked in the cage? _“Who won?”_ Several angels whispered. _“Who lost?” “What do we do?”_ The messages descended into confusion and Gabriel was paralyzed for a split moment.

 

 _Sam was in the cage_. Gabriel was pretty sure he had both physically and metaphysically held his breath. “Oh shit,” he muttered. “He did it.” Lucifer had not won; which was the most important detail. And Michael was stuck there too. Gabriel's hands shook and when he realized that, he stood, knocking over Bobby's chair. Nemamiah looked startled and Max looked ready to bolt at the next crash of furniture. 

 

Lucifer would be fully distracted by Michael being in his cage for at least several days in earth time.

 

Gabriel fumbled, yanking his phone and calling the number Castiel had given him. He clenched his fist, to stop the shaking and he tuned out the chaos in Enochian. The Automated message telling him the line had been disconnected was an annoyance. Shit. He tried Dean's number.

 

“Be alive, Dino,” Gabriel ordered and thankfully his phone at least rang. It rang for several moments and Gabriel cursed in his mind for every second that ticked by. Every moment on Earth that he wasted was another day in Hell for Sam. “Pick up you mullet rock meat head...”

 

“Gabriel?” Nemamiah asked cautiously, scared even. She didn't seem to have grasped his urgency, only that Sam was probably in Hell.

 

“Sh...” Gabriel tried to be soothing but it came out rather sharp. He couldn't help it. He had the chance to save Sam and Dean Fucking Winchester couldn't pick up his damn phone...

 

The sound of background noise signaled life and Gabriel mouthed a very loud FI-NA-LLY. “Yeah?” Dean sounded hollow; dazed

 

“Is it true?” Gabriel asked, his words mashing into one another. “Sam's in the cage? Michael and Lucifer as well?” Dean sounded like he was still processing the information and his answer took far too long for Gabriel. “ _Dean_.”

 

“Yeah... they're all gone.” Dean breathed, sounding pained. “They're both gone.”

 

“I need an exact location.” Gabriel really hoped this wasn't going to be 20 questions, but luckily a different person answered.

 

“Stull Cemetery. Lawrence, Kansas.” Castiel's smooth, calm voice was the assurance that Gabriel needed. “How is Nemamiah?” Gabriel didn't answer; he'd hung up before Castiel even finished her name. He took Nemamiah's hand and crouched down to her.

 

“We're gonna fly,” he told her. “Gonna drop you off with your parents.” Nemamiah needed no other incentive. 

 

Two seconds later they landed down in the vast field; one that would have never held up if the archangels had fought. It was cloudy and a breeze ghosted over the earth; still in one piece but the air of loss was thick. Curiously, there were chunks of human flesh and spatters of blood covering a good portion of the cemetary; especially covering a rather startled looking Bobby Singer. Castiel was standing next to Dean, still holding the hunter's phone; both looked relatively unscathed, or recently healed. Castiel even had his halo again, but Gabriel didn't care for the details for the moment. He held his hand out to them, releasing Nemamiah's hand.

 

“The key,” Gabriel said. Dean looked bewildered as he held it up. Gabriel plucked it from him as Castiel was thoroughly distracted by hugging his daughter, who was hugging his waist tight. Gabriel pointed a finger at Dean. “Take care of Max or Dad help me I will disassemble your car.”

 

Before Dean could formulate an angry response, Gabriel took off, his wings taking him to the gates of Hell.

 

It wasn't the first time he'd done something stupid for the Winchesters and he doubted this would be the last.


	71. Angel Baby

Dean felt like a train wreck. He sank into the soothing worn leather of the Impala, unable to get the last moments of Sam and Adam diving into the open maw in the ground. He rubbed his eyes again and looked at the clock; which read 1:45am. They were taking a break on the side of the highway.

 

Bobby headed home, agreeing to take care of Gabriel's mutt. The old hunter seemed compliant to do so; probably because he'd been brought back to life and Castiel explained that Gabriel had plans to rescue Sam if he did indeed succeed in taking Lucifer to Hell. Dean sure wished he'd known about it before, it would have taken a lot of what ifs off his mind. 

 

Nemamiah was curled up in the back seat. Her day was filled with some crying, both happy and sad. Once she understood what was going on she piped down. They'd driven miles down the road, at least until they got to a different town and Dean had time to clear his head with some music.

 

Dean looked to the passenger seat, where Castiel was half turned towards Dean, arm resting over the backseat. He was watching his daughter sleep; a serene scene painted on his face. After being with a fellow worn down human for so long, sitting next to a full fledged angel gave Dean a surreal feeling; especially since Castiel had exploded like a cherry bomb in a pumpkin; again. Dean wasn't sure how many more times he could deal with his angel exploding.

 

Dean groaned, sinking in his seat more. “So this is it. Apocalypse averted.” 

 

Castiel nodded, his vibrant blue eyes nearly glowing in the dark as they moved to look at Dean. “Hell did not win. Heaven did not win. What did you expect?”

 

Dean was sure he deserved a medal or something for being Lucifer's punching bag, but he guessed he could do without. “Guess I expected more music,” Dean said cheekily and was graced with a small smile on Castiel's face. Dean was glad the angel-stiffness hadn't returned with the powers. “Good to be back in the angel club? And, well, not dead?”

 

“I'm grateful to be back.” Castiel looked back to Nemamiah, who had her arms wrapped around Dean's leather jacket as a temporary security blanket. Castiel looked back to Dean. “It's more of a species than a club.” Dean smiled, feeling pretty elated.

 

“Let's keep it that way.” Dean let out a relieved breath, even as Castiel looked mildly confused; but he didn't dwell on it.

 

“God is still watching over us,” Castiel mentioned and Dean scoffed, a wry smile on his face.

 

“Yeah, really attentive father-figure,” Dean said. “Couldn't have brought you back any sooner or anything.” Dean's hand was taken in Castiel's, squeezing his fingers warmly.

 

“I'm lucky to be back at all,” Castiel affirmed and Dean nodded, squeezing back.

 

“I'm glad you're back. Again.” Dean looked into Castiel's eyes, feeling oddly content in the moment. Nemamiah let out a large breath in her sleep, snuggling into the jacket. “We should find a motel. Sleep in a real bed.” Castiel agreed with a nod and Dean started the engine. The turned on the radio low as he steered Baby towards town again.

 

A few songs in, an old classic rolled in. It was Rosie and the Originals; a band from the 60's, taking a break from the Beetles, which Dean thought would help Nemamiah sleep through the ride. He hadn't heard the song in years, since his mom and dad were still around anyway. Dean scoffed as he heard it; Angel Baby. He glanced at Castiel, but he seemed pretty oblivious to the song.

 

Dean pulled the Impala over to the shoulder again, under a street light. Castiel looked confused as he looked over at Dean again. “Dean?”

 

“Be right back.” Dean opened the door and popped the trunk. “Listen to the song.” Dean got out and shifted through his duffel bag. He found what he'd put away for a while now and slid back into the driver's seat as the end of the song was rolling in. He remembered in agreement with Sam, about marrying Castiel. And it wasn't just because he'd promised Sam, but the apocalypse was over and he had been mulling it over ever since Castiel first mentioned something formal.

 

Castiel looked patiently confused and Dean gave him a smile. He had imagined this, pretty much being what Heaven would be like. If he had to choose some of those happy memories to replay again and again into eternity (if he ever made it back to Heaven, that is), then he wanted to make more with Castiel and Nemamiah. And if Gabriel did come back with Sam, it would be even better. Dean held up a ring. It was the one he'd worn for years. It made opening beer bottles a hell of a lot easier on the run; so it was all beat up to Hell and back. It wasn't a horseman's fancy ring, but he thought it matched them pretty well. Castiel's eyes immediately fixated on it, eyes growing a bit wider.

 

“Marry me, Cas. Be my angel baby,” Dean proposed. Castiel was wordless a moment.

 

“Is that a reference to cherubs and their association with making humans fall in love.” Castiel finally found words. It had not been the answer Dean had been looking for; but the small smile and the way Castiel held his hand out expectantly told Dean it was another patch of Castiel's strange version of humor.

 

“Father, you're supposed to say yes.” Nemamiah rubbed her eyes as she stood and leaned over the back seat. Dean chuckled and Castiel tilted her head towards him to let their foreheads touch in an affectionate way.

 

“Of course, my apologies,” Castiel said to her as Nemamiah's mouth opened in a wide yawn. Castiel looked to Dean again. “I will marry you Dean. It would be my honor.” Dean grinned, chest tight as he leaned in and kissed Castiel's lips, sealing their future matrimony. Castiel warmed to the kiss immediately, seeming content to let it draw out, but they were interrupted by another yawn.

 

“I'm hungry,” Nemamiah managed after she could speak again and Dean pulled back, slipping the ring onto Castiel's finger.

 

“It's pretty late, Miah,” Dean said. Castiel's hand held his warmly while they were still close.

 

“You two are up,” she argued. “We didn't eat dinner.”

 

“Perhaps a late dinner before we find a motel room,” Castiel suggested.

 

“Yeah, I bet there's something in town.” Dean sat back and buckled back up. Hey pulled back onto the empty highway.

 

“I want something red and sweet.”

 

“You always want something red and sweet, Miah.”

 

“That's my favorite.”

 

Dean just smiled and gripped Castiel's hand in his. The ring caught the shine of the passing streetlights and Nemamiah again fell asleep to the hum of the engine. 

 

The apocalypse was stopped before it was started, and that gave rise to a new beginning for the hunter, the angel, and the nephilim. That didn't mean that there wasn't going to be new complications further along the road. But for the next few days, there would be something akin to peace. A closing of one chapter that one may say is a happy ending, but it was just another road to a new story.

 

-

 

The End

 

-

 

It tis COMPLETED!

 

I really appreciate everyone's patience. Gah, it's finally done though. I feel pretty accomplished.

 

There have been plans for a continuation since I began this fic, but I can not really put a date on when I will work on it since I made vow to myself along with a new years resolution that once I finished Angel Baby, I'd be ready to write original work. So that is my goal. I have to put away the fanfic ideas and start writing original work. I do hope to write more fanfiction in my free time (haha, free time while writing a book) but nothing is set in stone. (Update December 2016: I have written and published my first book. So please do check it out. A link can be found at the end of my AO3 profile page. )

 

Thank you for everyone's kind comments. I really do enjoy feedback on my work. And my fanart that it has inspired. :) I hope you enjoyed the journey with me and we can all dream of Dean and Castiel in domestic bliss for a while. And Gabriel can rescue Sam from the cage and take him on a well deserved vacation. 

 

So wish me lots of luck and stuff. I'm off to adventure! If you have any questions you can comment or my tumblr is always open. Thank you all for reading this far.

 

**But wait, there's more.**

 

A snippet for the sequel (long way down the road).

 

-

 

_"Sorry I couldn't get all of you out, Sam. Lucy was going to hold onto something, and I'm not strong enough to drag out your chrome dome yet. When I'm back up to snuff, I'll try again. But, until then, you can room in my vessel." Gabriel tapped the pulsing blue light that showed through his skin; casting shadows from his ribs. "I think getting your soul out was the most important bit."_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked my fanfiction, please check out My Books! A link can be found at the end of my AO3 profile page.


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